


30 Days of Cheesy Tropes for Dean and Cas

by ashleyerwinner



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 30 day cheesy trope challenge, Anal Sex, Angel!Castiel, Angel/Demon AU, Arranged Marriage, Bartender AU, Blow Jobs, Body Swap, Dean Smith - Freeform, DeanCas - Freeform, Demon!Castiel, Destiel - Freeform, Dragon!Cas, Drug use cw, Engineer!Dean, Female!Dean, Fluff, Genderswap, Handcuffed Together, High School AU, Jock!Cas, M/M, Magic Spell, Matching Soulmate Markings, Met In a Dream, Mistletoe, Mythical Creature AU, NSFW, Orphan AU, Punk!Dean, Seven Minutes In Heaven, Sex Pollen, Smut, Spin the Bottle, Stripper AU, Stripper!Dean, Vampire AU, Zombie AU, cisswap cw, coffee shop AU, deserted island, elevator meeting, female!Sam, homophobic slur cw, mutual handjobs, octo!cas, office romance AU, reunited friends au, secret admirer au, superhero au, superhero!cas, vampire!Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-14 23:25:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 34,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2206992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashleyerwinner/pseuds/ashleyerwinner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>30 Days of the Cheesiest Tropes you can imagine for our beloved Dean and Cas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee Shop AU

Castiel flips through his Latin notes as he waits in line at the closest coffee shop off-campus. It is his routine, a religious thirty minutes of his day devoted to looking through his notes as he sips on ‘the blackest coffee you have, please’. 

Every day, the barista tries to get him to order something different, but Castiel is always too busy trying to cram his head with as much knowledge he can before classes start, saying no more than just a curt ‘no thank you’, and not even glancing up at the man behind the counter.

"Hey, Notes Guy, your regular? Or can I convince you to try a thai mint tea this morning?" A low southern voice asks him. Castiel doesn’t glance upwards from his notes.

"Just the blackest coffee you have, please," he replies, crinkling his brow, and the man laughs.

"We have a mocha cookie crumble," he calls from the coffee machine, and Cas hums an answer.

"You know it’s useless to try and deter me from my usual," Castiel says softly, flipping through two pages of his notes, and the man laughs, a loud, vibrant melody that sweeps through the coffee shop. Castiel finds himself smiling along. 

"Anything else for you, Notes Guy?" The man asks as he steps up to the counter again, and Castiel shakes his head.

"Just the coffee, thanks," Castiel says, and reaches for his wallet. 

"Nah, man, you look pretty perplexed this morning. It’s on the house," the man says, and Castiel looks up. The man in front of him is smiling, bright white straight teeth and full lips, his cheeks dimpled, his eyes green and sparkling with boyish wonder. Freckles dot the bridge of his nose and Castiel curses himself for ignoring this man, Dean, as his name badge says, for nearly six months.

"Thank you, Dean," Castiel says, and Dean’s smile falters for a moment, before widening even more.

"No problem, Notes Guy," he says, and Castiel smiles.

"Castiel, Cas. Novak. Um, my name," Castiel stutters, and Dean chuckles.

"Yeah, I know man, we’re in the same history class. Man, Crowley’s a dick, right?" Dean says, and slides the coffee cup over to him.

"Why were you calling me Notes Guy, then?" Castiel asks, and Dean’s cheeks redden.

"Didn’t want to seem too stalker-y, you know? But… you know my name, and…" He trails off, smiling. Someone coughs behind him. Right. There’s a line of people behind him in this coffee shop, where he is, getting coffee, which he has in his hand, which Dean says is on the house.

"I’ll see you in history, Dean," Castiel says, smiling, and goes to his regular table.

Before he goes back to his notes, he glances at his coffee, and feels himself blush. On the cup, it reads, “Notes Guy, give me a call sometime, xoxo Coffee Guy” and Dean’s number underneath. 

He looks back at Dean with a smile, and the other man sends a wink his way.

Maybe Castiel should ignore his routine more often.


	2. Idol/Fan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You fell asleep, didn't you?" Cas asks, his gummy smile widening, and Dean shakes his head.
> 
> "Nah, just closed my eyes for a bit, listened to the, uh, Idean thing." Dean says, and Cas shakes his head.
> 
> "You're deplorable."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to do the Idol/Fan thing so I tweaked it a bit and made it into a Dean longingly gazing at Cas from afar one lmao enjoy!!!

Dean sits in the back row of the lecture hall, behind a gaggle of college girls who all whisper and giggle as Castiel Novak prepares his notes for his lecture on the Philosophy of Religion: The Problem of Evil, which he was giving at a hoity toity convention for brainiacs of the century or something.

Dean didn't come for the thrilling topic of the conversation, however. When he heard from Sam that Castiel Novak was coming to Kansas for this lecture, he had kept his interest to a minimum, giving Sam no more satisfaction than a grunt as he went on fixing his car. But when Sam left, naturally he had googled to see where Cas would be and a week later, found himself waiting excitedly for his ex-best friend to start a lecture on a subject he couldn't care less about.

Castiel definitely grew into his body, Dean noticed. No longer was Cas a lanky, thin teenager, but a muscular, sharp-jawed, scruffy... well, gorgeous guy. Not that Cas wasn't gorgeous in high school, with his full plump lips and his sharp, high cheekbones, his low voice and his gummy smile saved only for Dean.

He'd fucked it all up by pushing Cas away after Cas had pulled him into a drunken kiss, leaving Dean questioning his sexuality, and without a best friend to confide in, a shoulder to lean on. 

It was all Dean's fault. And when they graduated, Dean was sure he'd never see Cas again.

And now, he was 40 feet in front of the guy, just as slack-jawed and flustered as he had been the night they shared a kiss, his heart just as fluttery as when Cas looked at him with pure adoration in his eyes, and just as ashamed with himself as when he pushed Cas away and ran home, leaving Cas heartbroken and alone at that party.

This is a mistake. He has to go. He moves to leave the lecture hall, but Cas clears his throat and the entire hall quiets down and looks to him, all leaning forward in their seats as he begins to talk. Dean leans back and makes sure Cas can't see who's sitting among his fans, and Cas begins to talk.

"Hello," he greets the audience, and Dean's heart stops as the sound of Cas' gravelly voice reaches his ears, feels the hairs on his arm stand up on end, feels the blood rushing through his veins heat up and his breath catch in his throat.

He's fuckin' in love with the guy.

"My name is Castiel Novak, and I'll be talking today about the challenge to believe in God while natural evil exists in the world, and how Ireanean and Augustinian theodicies respond to this challenge," Castiel says, and he paces his platform while he rambles on about the omnipotence and benevolence of God, and how if natural evil exists and God either doesn't care or doesn't stop it, then he is neither benevolent nor omnipotent, and how Christians turn to Theodicies to explain why God allows evil to exist.

Dean closes his eyes for a moment and lets Cas' words surround his mind, hears the passion and understanding of his voice and the true artistry of Cas' explanations, even if Dean himself doesn't believe in God and the precise reasoning behind this is because bad things do happen and God doesn't do a damn thing to stop it. He didn't stop his mother from dying in a fire. He didn't stop his father from becoming an alcoholic. He didn't stop his father from getting behind the wheel black out drunk and killing himself that September night the first week into Dean's first year of high school. 

He didn't stop Dean from making the biggest mistake of his life, letting Cas get away from him.

"Together, the Ireanean and Augustinian theodicies try to prove the problem of evil, however, does free will justify six million Jews being killed in the holocaust? Does the original sin bringing the punishment of evil give anyone peace of mind as their mothers and fathers are killed, leaving them alone in the world?" Castiel asks. The hall is dead silent, and Dean squirms in his seat. 

Castiel goes into a full explanation of the Ireanean and Augustinian theodicies, and Dean opens his eyes and watches Cas talk, watches the spark in his blue eyes dance, watches around him as everyone gapes in amazement on how absolutely breathtaking Cas is in every aspect. Dean doesn't even recognize the end of Cas' lecture until the buzz of people talking around him distracts him from looking at Cas. 

"He's incredible. Can you imagine how he's still single?" The girls in front of him gossip, and Dean feels himself heat up with excitement. Dean slumps in his seat and builds up the courage to go up and say hello.

"I heard he's gay!" One of the girls whispers, and Dean closes his eyes and remembers the soft, warm press of Cas' lips against his own.

"Are you kidding? He's a Christian philosopher. He's probably 100% against homosexuality. It's in the bible!" One of the other girls replies, and Dean thinks about Cas' lust-blown eyes, his spit-slicked lips, and the soft smile on his face after he pulled away from kissing Dean.

Dean stands up, and rushes down to Cas, before he can change his mind.

"You should have done the lecture on homosexuality in the bible. He who lies with another man not meaning what they think it means and all that," Cas turns around and faces Dean with a shocked look on his face, and Dean continues. "Some girls up there are pretty sure you're against homosexuality. I bet they'd ignore the bible about that part where you should be married to bang people though, I think they only came to see how good-looking you are. I obviously came for the thrilling subject of-"

"Dean," Castiel breathes, interrupting Dean's ramblings, and Dean smiles nervously.

"Hey, Cas," he says, and Cas smiles. "Great lecture, by the way, you know." Dean says, scratching the back of his head, and Cas chuckles.

"I'm sure it was absolutely intriguing to you, Dean. What, you being a devout Christian and all," Cas says, and Dean smiles and lets his hand drop to his side.

"Oh yeah, the part with the theodicies, totally intriguing, man. Now, what the fuck is a theodicy?" Cas' laugh rings out through the lecture hall, and Dean's heart tightens in his chest.

"You fell asleep, didn't you?" Cas asks, his gummy smile widening, and Dean shakes his head.

"Nah, just closed my eyes for a bit, listened to the, uh, Idean thing." Dean says, and Cas shakes his head.

"You're deplorable."

"You're looking good, man," Dean says, changing the subject, and Cas looks to the ground.

"As are you, Dean," Cas replies, and they stand there in silence, having a staring contest that Dean remembers being frequent in their high school days. Dean breaks eye contact and reaches up to rub the back of his head again.

"I've, uh, I've missed you, Cas," Dean says, and Cas' smile fades. He tilts his head and looks at Cas with narrowed, curious eyes, and Dean finds himself unable to look away, unable to move.

"Let's go get some coffee," Cas says. "I can talk to you more about some... theodicies." He gives Dean a lopsided smile, and Dean follows him with a nod. 

When coffee leads to a walk in the park, which leads to dinner at Dean's house, and Sam's shit-eating smirk (the fucking know-it-all), Dean shouldn't be surprised when it also leads to a drink, and another, until Sam's passed out on the chair, and Cas is pressed against Dean's side, whispering softly as to not wake Sam.

He shouldn't be surprised when Cas brushes his lips against Dean's, but he is.

But this time, Dean doesn't push Cas away.


	3. Anonymous Love Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You are an angel from above; You’re the one whom I love." Dean recites, and then he laughs. "Aw, man, this is gold. You’ve got a secret admirer!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fucking fluffy omg enjoy xox

Castiel stares down at the folded note in his hand in confusion, reading the poem again, and again, trying to figure out why it’s in his locker.

"Whatcha got there, Cas?" A voice says behind him, and Cas feels the familiar arm of Dean Winchester swing around his shoulders. 

"I think someone mistakenly put this in my locker," Cas says, and Dean snatches the note out of his hand, clearing his throat before reading it aloud. 

"You are an angel from above; You’re the one whom I love." Dean recites, and then he laughs. "Aw, man, this is gold. You’ve got a secret admirer!"

"A what?" Cas laughs, and takes the note back from him. "Who’d want to secretly admire me?"

"I think that’s the point, Cas. You’re not supposed to figure out who sent you them. Hence the secret part?" Dean drops his arm to his side, and nods in the direction of the cafeteria. "Anyway, time to eat. I brought fudge rounds!" 

Cas forgets about the note, stuffing it into his pocket and following his best friend to the cafeteria.

"You’re like the moon, the sun, the stars. So much beauty in your grace." Cas reads from a new note to Dean the next morning. "It’s a beautiful sentiment." He says, raising his eyebrows. Dean laughs.

"You’re not swooning?" Dean says, a smile widening across his face. Castiel shrugs. 

"I’m just trying to figure out who it is," Castiel says, shaking his head. "They’re not even handwritten."

"Maybe the person’s sure you’d recognize their handwriting," Dean says, rustling through his bag. "Listen, baseball practice is starting in like ten, I gotta run. Don’t worry too much about this secret admirer thing, alright? You’ll get obsessed."

"I’m starting to think the sole purpose of this is to drive me absolutely crazy," Castiel says, and waves at Dean as the green-eyed boy speeds off. 

"Seriously, Cas, don’t go all… Cas on this!" Dean calls behind him, and Castiel grins. He’s already finding himself over-thinking this whole thing. He shoves the note in his pocket and tries to occupy his mind with his history notes instead.

"Yours is the voice I hear when the moon steals the day," Dean recites from the note the next day, and Cas sits back.

"My voice would frighten anyone at night," Cas huffs, and Dean chuckles. 

"Yeah, man, you’ve got that deep, ‘I-just-gargled-nails’ thing about you," Dean says, and Cas rolls his eyes.

"Shut up," Cas says, and sits up in his seat, leaning towards Dean. "Who do you think it is?" 

"Don’t have a clue. Meg?"

"Meg would write dirty limericks, not poetic things about my voice. You know she asked how big my cock was the other day? Like, out of no where, came up to me, and just asked me about my genitals. Who does that?"

"Meg does that. Um, what about that English kid? Balthazar?" Dean says, rubbing his eyes.

"Balth is too forward for secret admirer notes," Cas says. "On the first day he was here he joked about having the menage-a-twelve, remember?"

"I have no idea, man. You should just burn them. Don’t even read them anymore." Dean’s tone is suddenly snippy, and Cas crumples up the note and tosses it into the trash bin. 

"I’m done thinking about it," Cas says. "Hey, football game’s tonight, you wanna go and get some ice cream after?" Dean shrugs.

"Whatever man," Dean says, and turns around to face the chalkboard. Cas rolls his eyes and sits back in his seat. He doesn’t have any idea what Dean’s pissed off about, but he’s not falling into the ‘feel bad for me’ trap laid out in front of me.

 _sorry for bein pissy today. football game at 7? ice cream on me tonite_ , Cas reads Dean’s text and smiles. He responds with a smiley face, and heads to the football field, knowing Dean will meet him there.

Cas waits for Dean in front of the football field, hands in his pockets, and staring at nothing until he hears the familiar “hey, Cas!” that Dean sends his way. Dean’s smiling, a good sign, and pats Cas on the back before they both find a seat in the bleachers.

"How much you wanna bet we’ll get pummeled tonight?" Dean says as they sit in the back, against the chain fence, and Cas laughs.

"We haven’t won a game in four years, what makes you think there’s a shot of us winning tonight?"

"Why do we even come to these games?" Dean laughs, leaning against the fence, and Cas shrugs.

"What was up with you earlier?" Cas asks, not looking at Dean. His friend goes silent beside him.

"I dunno man, those letters, they’re… getting to me, I guess," Dean says, and Cas stays silent.

"Why?" Cas asks, finally, as the marching band leaves the field, and Dean squirms beside him. 

"I don’t know man, it’s just… I don’t know." Dean shrugs, and they sit in uncomfortable silence as the game starts. Cas can barely pay attention to the game due to the sudden awkwardness between he and his best friend.

"I don’t like anyone," Cas says. "I feel kind of sad that this person is sending them to me because I’m almost sure I don’t return their affections." Dean sighs next to him.

"That’s the thing, Cas. You don’t like anyone," Dean says. "You’re like the enigma of this high school,  _every one_  wants a piece of you, and you just don’t see it. You’re like the mysterious bad boy, or something.” Dean says. Cas chuckles.

"Are you jealous of me?" Cas laughs. "Because you think I’m hotter than you?" Dean rolls his eyes and turns to him.

"Cas, I know I’m good looking. I don’t need anyone sendin’ me love notes to finally realize that." Dean’s eyes catch his, and Cas feels his face heat up.

"You’re such a bullshitter, what the hell are you mad about then?" Cas says, and Dean shakes his head.

"I’m not mad," he says. 

"You were mad."

"Yeah, Cas, well, you threw the notes away, so I’m not mad anymore," Dean says, and Cas tilts his head.

"You were mad that someone was giving me attention?"

"No, Jesus, fuck," Dean says, and runs his hand through his short hair, and Cas clenches his jaw.

"Then why were you-"

"Because you were trying to figure out who it was. And I don’t want someone else to come in and take you away." Dean says, his mouth in a straight line, his eyes dead set on Cas’.

"You…" Cas breathes, and Dean looks down at his hands. "You like me?" Cas asks, and Dean huffs a dry laugh.

"Oh,  _god_ , I’m so stupid. Forget it, Cas,” Dean says, and moves himself farther from Cas’ side. Cas feels his chest clench up, and his heart burst with heat.

"You like me," Cas says, and feels a smile creep across his face. Dean looks up at him for a second with questioning eyes, and then he bites his lip.

"You…?" Dean starts, and Cas moves in closer to him. "You’re not disgusted with me?" Dean says, and Cas can’t even speak.

He closes the space between he and Dean and kisses him. Kisses him until he feels Dean kiss back, until he feels Dean smile into the kiss. When they pull away, they share the same smile.

"Finally!" A voice calls from the bleachers, and they look over to see Sam, waving at them, a handful of notes in his hand.

"That little  _punk_ ,” Dean laughs, and Cas laughs with him. 

Sometimes little brothers aren’t all that annoying, Dean decides later, after he and Cas skip the game and skip the ice cream, and go make out behind the bleachers for the rest of the night.


	4. Angel/Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I am a demon," Castiel admits. "But I was an angel. I was as pure as you, once." The righteous man chokes out a sob.
> 
> "You have to save me," he says. "Redeem yourself." Castiel can tell he's hardly trusting of Castiel's intentions, but he nods in spite of himself.
> 
> "I will save you. The righteous man will live." Castiel promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Castiel is both the angel and the demon... because why not? Enjoy!

_"The very touch of you corrupts!"_ Castiel hears in his head, a screeching, hissing sound. It repeats again and again, until Castiel believes it, and he falls, falls,  _falls._

When Castiel opens his eyes, the smell of sulfur so thick in the air around him, he believes he's fallen into a trap of demons, into a trap set up by Lucifer, by Crowley, by  _Naomi._ But he is alone. The smell of sulfur comes... from him.  _  
_

"No," Cas says, trying to flex his wings, but he only feels the scrape of the featherless bones against the cement below him. " _NO!"_  He screeches, the anger pouring out of him, the swirl of death and destruction inside of him heating as he screams, as he tears at his own decaying flesh, his  _demon_ flesh. His sounds of anguish echo through the depths of hell,and soon, the accompaniment of the others in hell, the  _laughter_  of the others in hell, echo along with him.

 

Hell is cold,  and silent, and while demons are sent to torture the broken, empty human souls, Castiel is left alone. No one looks at him. No one talks to him. He is ignored, just as he was in heaven.

 _"The very touch of you corruptssssss..."_  The sound of Naomi's hissing fogs his thinking, tortures his every second. He's been wandering the depths of hell for nearly a week without sleep, without nourishment, and although he cannot die, he feels himself fading. The darkness of hell surrounds him, no soul bright enough to give off any significant light, no fiery embers like so many among him believed there were. 

_"THE VERY TOUCH OF YOU-"_

"Sammy?!" Castiel hears, and the voices stop in his head. " _Sammy?!"_  Castiel finds himself running towards the voice, towards the first thing in hell he's heard in the whole time he's been there. He stops in front of the brightest light he's ever seen, brighter than Naomi's pure form, brighter than Gabriel's, or Balthazar's. This man doesn't belong here. His soul is pure.

"The righteous man," Castiel breathes. There has been stories, Castiel thinks, rumors, but he never thought they could be true. The righteous man breaks the first seal in hell. There's no other explanation. This man will bring upon them the apocalypse. 

"Is someone there?" The righteous man asks, panicked, and Castiel steps back into the shadows. He cannot interfere, he cannot-- "Please, please help me," the man says, and Castiel feels. He  _feels_.

"How are you here?" Castiel asks, his voice coming out in a gravelly hiss. The righteous man shivers, and pulls against his restraints. 

"Please, don't hurt me!" He pleads, and Castiel shakes his head.

"Please, be quiet. Someone will hear you-- someone will come!" Castiel says, coming forward into the righteous man's light, and Dean stops struggling.

"How do I know you're not a demon?" Dean asks, and Castiel flinches back. This man can't see his true form. 

"I am a demon," Castiel admits. "But I was an angel. I was as pure as you, once." The righteous man chokes out a sob.

"You have to save me," he says. "Redeem yourself." Castiel can tell he's hardly trusting of Castiel's intentions, but he nods in spite of himself.

"I will save you. The righteous man  _will_  live." Castiel promises.

"Dean," the righteous man says. "My name is Dean."

"Castiel," he replies, in turn. And then everything goes blank.

 

" _You cannot saaaave himmm_ ," a voice whispers, and Castiel fights to open his eyes. There's a sharp pain in the back of his head, and he figures that's how he was pulled into unconsciousness. His eyes open to a face centimeters away from his, eyes black and smoke pouring out of his rotted flesh.

"Alistair," Castiel spits, and the demon laughs, a hissing, disgusting thing.

" _You will fail, Castiel. Just as you always have._ " Castiel looks up at Dean, bloody and battered and unconscious, slumped helplessly, still restrained. A hook dangles from his intestines, which are spilling out of his open stomach. Castiel can taste the bile creeping up his throat. This is  _his_  fault. 

"He will not break," Castiel says, and Alistair's nasty smile is wiped from his face. "You will not succeed." Castiel's flesh cracks, and Alistair hisses as light peeks from the opening on his chest.

" _You are an abomination_ ," Alistair hisses, and Castiel stands.

"You are the abomination. You will not harm the righteous man, not anymore." Castiel's flesh crackles and spurts of light flow from inside of him.

" _How is this possible?"_  The demon screams, and Castiel explodes into light.

"I came off the line with a crack in my chassis," Castiel says, his true form shaping itself in the depths of hell. The demon scuttles away, the cowardly vermin that it is, and Castiel turns his attention to the righteous man. He surrounds his light around Dean, and rebuilds the righteous man himself. 

"Cas _ss_?" Dean opens his eyes, sees Castiel in his true form. "You did it," he smiles, and then passes out. Castiel grabs Dean's shoulder, and pulls.

_"The Righteous Man is saved!"_


	5. Bartender AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I get off in about an hour," Dean says, and Castiel grins.
> 
> "Is that a threat or a promise?" Castiel winks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bartender Dean //sighs happily// enjoy!!

"Come  _on_ , Cas. One drink?" Anna asks, her big brown eyes pleading. Castiel can't resist his little sister's puppy dog eyes, and she knows this. 

"I have things to do, Anna. I have a paper-"

"You can do that later. After a drink. At the Roadhouse. With me. Your loving, little sister, who loves you very much, and wants to spend time with her big brother. Who she adores-"

"I don't think you could lay it on any thicker." Castiel replies, dryly. Anna smirks.

"Does that mean you're coming with me?" She asks, a smile widening on her face. Castiel sighs.

"Yes. Fine, whatever." Castiel says, and Anna laughs in triumph. 

"Now that you've agreed I have something I need to mention," Anna says, bouncing in her seat. Castiel feels himself pale.

"Oh  _God,_  Anna, tell me you didn't."

"I set you up on a date!"

"God  _dammit_ , Anna." Castiel says, throwing his pen down onto his desk, and Anna rolls her eyes.

"Cassie, he's really sweet. His name is Balthazar and he's from  _England_. He's so hot, too, if he were straight-"

"Anna. Remember the last date you set me up with?" Castiel asks, rubbing his temples, and Anna shrugs.

"Um, yeah, Uriel... he was-"

"He was a cockhead, literally, Anna, you have no idea what my taste is. Why do you in _sist-_ " Anna holds up her hand to silence him.

"You've already agreed to it, brother dear. Just give it a chance? What's the harm in that?" She asks. Castiel sighs in defeat.

 

 _This_. This is the harm in blind dates, Castiel thinks as Balthazar rambles on about himself. He's so  _pretentious._ He hasn't stopped talking about himself since he introduced himself, and while his confidence and easy-going smile were charming at first, now Castiel wants to reach over the table and clap his hand over the man's mouth. 

"-And then I traveled to France," he's saying, and honestly, Castiel hasn't been paying attention to him at all. He's hardly even looking at him, just nodding along and letting Balthazar talk. It's not like he can get a word in edgewise. He's watching the condensation drip down his beer, watching two little droplets race. When they come together and form one giant droplet, Castiel blinks back up to look at Balthazar. 

He's  _still_  talking. 

"I'm gonna," Castiel says, motioning to his near-empty beer, and walks to the bar, sitting at a stool and groaning into his hand. 

"Rough date?" A voice says, and Castiel laughs before looking up at the bartender.

"You could say that," Castiel grins, and bartender smiles. He's quite handsome, the bartender, Castiel notices. He has well-defined, muscular arms, a straight, perfect nose, dotted with freckles, and his eyes sparkle even in the dim light of the bar. 

"Dean," he introduces himself, extending his hand. Castiel takes it and smiles.

"Castiel," he replies. "So, Dean, have you ever sat down with someone who's immediate go-to conversation was about their menage-a-twelve in a brothel in India?" Dean laughs, his eyes crinkling, and his hand clasping the top of the bar as he doubles over. Castiel finds himself laughing along.

"Oh, man, I'm so sorry," Dean continues laughing, and Castiel shakes his head.

"No, no, I'm glad that my awful, horrible date is bringing you so much happiness." Castiel laughs with him, and Dean finally manages to pull himself together.

"Why are you even with him, man?" Dean asks, pouring Castiel another beer, and Castiel sighs.

"My sister set me up with him." He explains. "She has no idea what my type is. The last one had a thing about Lucifer? Man, that was pretty creepy."

"Like Satan?" Dean asks, leaning forward to listen to Cas.

"Literally Satan. He was delusional, I think. He wanted the apocalypse. Unless he was just fucking with me. Who knows at this point." Castiel takes a sip from his beer.

"So, what is your type?" Dean asks, and Castiel nearly chokes. If he's being honest, his type is right in front of him. Funny, cute, charming, and not self-absorbed. Castiel smirks at him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Castiel asks, and Dean's ears go pink.

"Yeah, I think I would, actually," Dean says, and Castiel's heart heats up in his chest. 

"Well, Dean. I am on a very important first date," Castiel says, a smile spreading across his face, and Dean rolls his eyes. "What if  _I_  get a chance to be a part of his menage-a-twelve? You can't very well think that I could possibly-"

"Dude, your date's macking on some other dude. And his girlfriend, I think." Dean says, nodding over to Balthazar's table. Castiel turns and starts laughing.

"Fuck, thank God," Castiel says. "I would have hated to go over and tell him I'd rather fuck the bartender than give him a pity handjob at the end of the date." Castiel says, turning back to Dean. Dean's face is flushed red and he's trying hard to keep himself cool, Castiel can tell.

"I get off in about an hour," Dean says, and Castiel grins.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Castiel winks, and Dean grabs the beer from his hand.

"Jesus, fuck, Cas, you're a flirty drunk. Let me get my shit and we'll leave right now." Dean's face is adorably red, and Castiel can't help the smile that spreads wider on his face.

There's no fucking way he's going to let Anna take credit for helping Cas meet Dean, but right now, he's feeling pretty thankful for his annoying little sister.


	6. Spin the Bottle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fuck you all,” Dean laughs. “Who the fuck are we supposed to kiss? Sam’s my brother, Charlie’s a lesbian, Kevin’s jailbait—“ Dean holds up his hand while Kevin protests. “You’re like five, Kevin, you’re not even old enough to drink yet.”
> 
> “There’s always Cas,” Charlie says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love spin the bottle ones jfc enjoy!!!

“Spin the bottle? What are we, twelve?!” Dean guffaws, the buzz of his sixth beer slurring his words and making him sound hysterical. The others are laughing, all red-faced and drunk as well. “We’re in our thirties! Crowley’s fuckin’—“ Dean cuts off to hiccup, and then continues. “Fuckin’ locked in our dungeon, Abaddon’s on the loose, there’s Metatron dickin’ it all up out there and—“

“And we’re _drunk_ , and we wanna play spin the bottle,” Sam laughs. Kevin and Charlie nod in agreement, and Cas sits quietly, sipping on his beer.

“Cas, side with me on this one,” Dean says, and Castiel shrugs.

“I’m not even sure what spin the bottle is, and frankly, if everyone else thinks it’s fun, I’m obligated to say… Let’s do it,” Cas says, and the other three conspirators cheer him on.

“Fuck you all,” Dean laughs. “Who the fuck are we supposed to kiss? Sam’s my brother, Charlie’s a lesbian, Kevin’s _jailbait_ —“ Dean holds up his hand while Kevin protests. “You’re like five, Kevin, you’re not even old enough to drink yet.”

“There’s always Cas,” Charlie says, her voice dancing, and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Let’s all kiss Smitey McSmiterson then,” Dean chuckles, and then he groans in defeat. “Fine. Fine! You win. Let’s play.” Dean says, and they all gather around in a circle.

“Someone explain how this game works,” Castiel says, sounding as sober as usual, and they all turn to him. Kevin speaks up.

“Well, we spin the bottle, and wherever the bottle lands, you kiss the person it’s pointing to.” Kevin says, very seriously, and Castiel nods just as seriously back.

“I should have sided with Dean, I think,” Castiel says, and Dean flaps his arms to his side.

“We still would have won the majority! Time to play!” Charlie says, and spins the bottle, the sound of it deafening over the drunken silence of the group. It slows down and lands between Sam and Kevin, and Charlie pauses.

“Okay, so how do we settle this?” Charlie asks. “I’ve never encountered this problem before.” She’s talking much too loud, the alcohol in her system a lot higher than what she’s used to.

“They should kiss each other,” Cas says, and Dean falls over from laughing.

“I second it!” Dean says after calming himself down, and Charlie laughs along.

“And I third it! Kiss!” She yells, and Sam lunges and kisses Kevin square on the lips, before pulling back and taking another sip of his beer.

“My turn,” Sam says, and spins it wildly, sending it bouncing between their feet in the circle. It lands on Kevin, again, and the prophet rolls his eyes.

“I’m starting to think that your brother wants me,” he says to Dean, and then Sam’s surging in for another kiss, raising his beer in the air. Castiel is laughing, his shoulders shaking as he makes a soundless giggle. It’s so endearing to Dean, he doesn’t even realize that the bottle has landed on him, and now it’s his turn to kiss Kevin.

“Kevin’s moving himself up,” he says, and leans across the circle to lock lips with the giggling kid. “Great, now I’m going to hell. Charlie, I skip my turn, you go,” Dean says, and Charlie rolls her eyes as she spins the bottle again. When it lands on Kevin, the room erupts into laughter.

“Two guys and a lesbian all in seven minutes!” Kevin says, laughing the loudest of all of them, and Charlie grabs his face and kisses him, and they both pull away giggling. Kevin spins again, and it lands on Cas, and somehow, the room goes silent.

“Well, it only seems fitting I kiss every single person in this room,” Kevin says, and Castiel leans in and presses his lips softly on Kevin’s. Dean feels his stomach knot uncomfortably, and when they pull away, Kevin seems a little shell-shocked.

“Dude, you have the softest lips—“ Kevin says, and the room erupts into laughter again. “Even Charlie’s aren’t as soft as yours!” He laughs, earning a punch on the arm from Charlie, and Castiel smiles, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Now you spin,” Charlie says. “Someone else deserves to feel those softest lips ever.” Castiel spins the bottle, and Dean’s heart drums as he watches the thing slowly fall, pointing to him. He lets out the breath he was holding, and looks up to lock eyes with Cas.

Cas, whose eyes are slightly glazed over, and whose lips are softly upturned into a little smile on his face, leans forward, across the circle, and Dean follows his movements, leaning in himself. When his lips touch Cas’ (and man, Kevin was right, his lips are the softest fucking—) it’s like everything stops for a moment. He can feel Cas’ heat bleed into his, can hear the scrape of their scruff as it rubs against each other’s. He can feel the soft intake of air that Cas takes as he presses closer in, and Dean blindly raises his hands to grab Cas’ face, to pull him in, to keep this moment longer.

“Woooo _oooo!_ ” Charlie cheers, and they pull apart as quick as it started, blush creeping across both of their faces.

Dean glances up to Cas, and sees the bashful smile creeping along his face, and Dean thinks that this probably won’t be the last time he and Cas find themselves lost in their own kissing.


	7. Stuck Someplace Together In the Winter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There wouldn’t happen to be any more blankets hiding around?” Castiel asks, his voice wavering as he shivers. Dean shakes his head. Castiel sighs and wraps the blankets more tightly around him. “We could—“
> 
> “—I mean, it makes sense to—“ Dean adds, as he nods.
> 
> “We could… share… body heat?” Castiel says. Dean keeps nodding. “If you’re okay with it, of course?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUCH FLUFF ENJOY

“I’m assuming the Men of Letters didn’t really think as far as the winter when they made this sanctuary,” Castiel says, as Dean stares helplessly at the wall of snow piled up outside of the bunker.

“Dude, we’re fuckin’ snowed in. I thought this only happened in cartoons!” Dean says, and starts digging through the snow.

“Dean, stop,” Castiel says, and pulls Dean away from the door. “You’ll make it collapse, and then you’ll die, and I won’t be able to resurrect you, if you’ve forgotten, because I don’t have my mojo anymore.” Dean sighs, his shoulders dropping in defeat.

“I’ll make some soup.” Dean says, resigned, and Castiel slams the door behind them.

“Tomato and rice?” Castiel asks, hopeful, and Dean chuckles.

“Yeah, Cas. Tomato and rice.”

 

“We should have gathered wood before the winter,” Cas says, his teeth chattering, and Dean nods.

“Yeah, 20/20 hindsight, the both of us. I could heat up some more soup?” Dean agrees, and Castiel shakes his head.

“We should save food in case we’re snowed in for a while.” Cas says, as he wraps his arms around himself, and Dean nods.

“Good plan. Where the fuck is Sammy when you need him?” Dean chuckles, but no humor is behind it.

“His date must have gone well,” Cas says. “Very, very well.” Dean chuckles again, and rubs his hands up and down his arms.

“I’m gonna grab some more blankets. Be right back.” Dean says, and runs off to the nearest closet. Castiel makes quick work of grabbing the blankets Dean had draped over himself, and wrapping them around himself, sighing as the warmth settles over his cold body. Dean comes running back in, blankets piled in his arms, and immediately barks a “hey!” when he sees Cas stole all of his blankets.

“It’s so cold. I’m new to the cold.” Cas says, making his eyes look innocent, like Sam taught him to do, and Dean’s shoulders slump.

“Fine,” Dean acquiesces, and drapes the rest of the blankets around himself. They sit in mutual silence for a while, the chattering of their teeth falling into the same rhythm. Castiel huffs a laugh, and Dean chuckles along.

“There wouldn’t happen to be any more blankets hiding around?” Castiel asks, his voice wavering as he shivers. Dean shakes his head. Castiel sighs and wraps the blankets more tightly around him. “We could—“

“—I mean, it makes sense to—“ Dean adds, as he nods.

“We could… share… body heat?” Castiel says. Dean keeps nodding. “If you’re okay with it, of course?” Castiel adds.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean keeps nodding, but makes no indications of moving.

“So…” Castiel says, smirking, and Dean seems to wake up, his head stops nodding, and his eyes widen, as if he’s now just realizing that he’s about to be cuddling with Cas.

“Oh.” He says softly, and then slowly makes his way over to Cas. Cas takes the blankets off of him momentarily, pressing himself against the back of the couch so Dean can slide in beside him. Dean stands for a moment, hesitating, and Castiel shivers.

“Any time, Dean,” Cas says, shivering, and Dean bites his lip as he lies pressed up to Cas, facing him. Castiel feels himself heat up instantly, and not only because of Dean’s body heat on his.

“Is this okay?” Dean asks, and Cas manages a nod. Dean busies himself dragging blankets over them both, and when he settles in, he holds his arms in tight to his body. Cas does the same.

“This is—“

“—awkward.” Dean finishes, and laughs. “Loosen up, Cas.” He jokes, and his hand presses softly against Cas’ chest. Castiel leans into Dean’s touch, and their eyes meet. Castiel brings his hand up and wraps it around Dean’s, and Dean’s eyes soften, and a smile quirks at his lips.

“This okay?” Cas asks, and Dean nods, leaning into Cas’ body, watching Cas with such fondness in his eyes Castiel can barely stand to see it. Castiel looks away, and Dean’s forehead presses against his softly. Dean’s hand drags up and cups Cas’ face, and Cas’ hand follows, lacing his fingers through Dean’s.

“Cas, look at me,” Dean says, his breath tickling Cas’ eyelashes, and Cas looks up. He sees the array of Dean’s freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose, his parted, plush lips, and a look in his eyes that captivates Castiel totally. When their lips touch for the first time, Castiel doesn’t even remember what the cold feels like. He loses himself in the warmth of Dean’s lips, his touch, the press of his body against his.

They fall asleep warm, hearts and bodies alike.

 

They wake up the next morning to a bang of a shutting door, and Sam’s voice ringing out for them.

“Sorry I didn’t come back, the snow was horrible!” He’s saying, stomping around and flipping on all of the lights. He finds Cas and Dean cuddled up beneath all of the blankets on the couch, wrapped up in each other, and immediately backtracks.

“You could have used the heaters!” He calls as he runs for the kitchen, but Dean and Cas are too busy trading morning kisses to pay him much mind.


	8. Sex Pollen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The succubus plants. 
> 
> Dean had breathed in the pollen of the succubus plants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make this as consent-able as possible, but just as a precaution: Dubious Consent under the sex pollen's influence. ALSO NOT SAFE FOR WORK. Enjoy!

If Castiel were paying attention; if he were still an angel... he would have kept Dean away from it. 

The beautiful vibrant pink flowers Dean had seen on their succubus hunt, the ones Dean had kept talking about, which was annoying to Cas at first, but he should have  _seen_  it, he was blind. 

The succubus plants. 

Dean had breathed in the pollen of the succubus plants. 

"Dean, this isn't you," Cas breathes as Dean climbs on top of him, straddling his thighs and pressing himself close to Cas, grinding his body on top of him. 

"C'mon, Cas. Know you want me," Dean says, in short, breathy whines, and Cas tries to push Dean away.

"You're incapable of making your own decisions, I can't possibly--"

"Cas, I want you to  _fuck_ me," Dean says, and Cas can feel it, the bulge in Dean's pants, rubbing against him. 

"If you weren't under the influence, you wouldn't--"

"Yeah, Cas, I would, always wanted to, always wanted  _you_ \--" Dean says, and starts mouthing sloppy, wet kisses on the column of Cas' neck. A grumble escapes Cas' mouth as the sensation of Dean's full attention on him heats him to his very core. 

Dean rolls his hips down to meet Cas', and although every inch of Cas is trying to resist, the small part of him that's been craving this attention from Dean is winning the battle. Castiel starts meeting Dean's thrusts with his own, and when Dean's mouth meets him, open, and wet, and so,  _so,_ hot, Castiel loses all inhibitions, and loses himself as well. 

Dean moans as Cas starts to reciprocate his advances, his thrusts speeding up, his breath shallow, and his hands groping every inch of Cas he can get to. 

Dean pauses his kissing to pull his shirt over his head, and Castiel snaps back into reality.

"We  _can't_ ," Cas moans, and Dean whines against his mouth. 

"Please, Cas, please, fuck me," he begs. "I need you inside--" Dean unbuckles his belt and starts fumbling with his pants. "Need you inside me, please, Cas," he trails wet kisses down Cas' neck again, and Cas pushes holds onto Dean's hips, his thumbs pressing hard onto the bone. 

"Dean, stop, you're not  _thinking_ \--"

"Can't think when you're not inside of me, Cas, please," Dean whines, shimmying his pants down his thighs, and Cas' mind goes blank as Dean kicks the offending clothes off onto the floor, and settles his naked body back onto Cas'. 

"I--" Cas says, and Dean writhes against him, making his mind go blank. "I need to call Sam," he says, and pushes Dean off of him long enough to grab his phone from the table. He manages to make his way through Sam's number before Dean starts sucking on his neck, wrapping his arms around Cas' middle and trying to take off his clothes.

" _Cas?_ " Sam's voice sounds from the other line, and Cas sighs.

"Look up succubus plants, and how to get rid of the side effects," Cas breathes, and Sam coughs loudly.

" _Everything okay?_ " He asks, and Cas grinds his teeth.

"Now, Sam!" Cas says, and Dean snakes his hand up Cas shirt. Cas gasps as Dean's fingers skirt over his nipple.

" _Cas, what the fuck is going on?_ " Sam asks, and Cas tilts his head back as Dean circles his thumb around Cas' nipple, mouthing at his neck as he does.

"Dean... oh,  _fuck_ , Dean--" Cas pushes him away and takes a deep breath. "Dean breathed in the succubus pollen, and now--"

" _And now my brother wants to fuck you?_ " Sam finishes, and Cas moans openly as Dean grabs his crotch, stroking his thumb over the bulge.

"I can feel you wantin' me, Cas," Dean breathes, and Sam's 'oh my God, ew!' sounds from the other line. 

"Yes," Cas says, not sure who he's responding to anymore. Dean gets on his knees in front of Cas and starts unbuttoning his pants.

" _Listen, it'll go away once he has sex, and clearly, Cas, he wants you. I'm gonna go and drink a bottle of bleach now. Bye._ " Sam says, and hangs up. Castiel tosses his phone aside and watches as Dean makes quick work of pulling his pants off, mouthing and moaning around his boxer-clad cock as he drags the jeans off and tosses them across the room.

"Dean, fuck," Cas says, and Dean only moans at Cas' praise. 

"You'll fuck me?" Dean asks, and looks up at Cas below his long eyelashes. 

How the fuck is Cas supposed to say no to that?

Cas pushes his boxers down to his knees, and Dean straddles him again, taking a hold of Cas' cock and pressing it immediately against his hole.

"Wait!" Cas says, and Dean nearly sobs. 

"I need--" Dean says, and Cas shakes his head.

"You need to be open, we need lube, we can't just--" Cas says, and Dean climbs off of him and makes his way to the bedroom. Castiel follows dumbly, admiring the way Dean's ass jiggles with every step. 

Dean opens his beside drawer and throws a bottle of lube onto the bed, and then lies himself down, his legs spread open. Cas feels himself redden as he views Dean this way, so open, so willing.

Dean pops the cap of the lube and spreads it over his own fingers, and pushes a finger slowly into himself, moaning wantonly, spreading his legs farther and looking right at Cas as he does so. Cas watches Dean’s finger pump in and out of his hole, watches the glazed look on his face as he opens himself up, and finds himself slowly leaning over Dean, in between his open legs, and taking over himself.

He’s so _tight_ , and warm, and even though it’s just two fingers Cas is pushing into Dean, he feels like this could go on forever, opening Dean up, watching Dean arch his back and moan his name. He’s only just started to pump three fingers in and out before Dean is begging him again to fuck him.

Cas nods dumbly as he pulls his fingers out, reaching blindly for the lube.

“Condom?” Cas asks, his throat dry, and Dean shakes his head.

“No,” is all he says, and Cas shakes his head, and reaches into Dean’s beside drawer and fishes around until he finds one. He rolls it onto himself while Dean watches, mouth parted in what looks like awe. He applies a generous amount of lube, and lines himself up to Dean’s clenching hole.

“Fuck me!” Dean says, pushing himself onto Cas’ cock, and Cas holds his hips down to the mattress.

“I,” Cas breathes, and Dean whines and squirms beneath him. “I am not going to use you like the others.” He pushes himself into Dean’s heat, and Dean watches him. “We will do this the right way.” Cas says, and he bottoms out. Dean gasps for air, clutching at Cas’ arms, his hips, and finally, raking his fingers through Cas’ hair and pulling him in.

“Cas, please,” Dean says, and kisses him. Cas pulls out and pushes back in, torturously slow. Dean seems to calm as Cas makes his thrusts into an easy rhythm, kissing and moaning into Cas’ mouth as he wraps his legs around Cas back, giving himself completely to Cas.

Cas whispers praises of love and affection into Dean’s mouth, and with every word, Dean’s pleasure seems to heighten, his body clenching around Cas’ cock, his moans increasing in volume. Dean comes with Cas’ name on his tongue, and Cas follows over, a desperate kiss onto Dean’s open mouth.

They lie there, breathing each other’s air, and Dean slowly comes back to his senses. His face is red with embarrassment, and Cas places chaste kisses on his shamed face.

“Fuck, Cas, I’m so—“ Dean says, tears brimming his eyes, and Cas shakes his head.

“So beautiful, Dean. So worthy,” he says. Dean clenches his eyes shut and looks away.

“Sorry,” Dean whispers, and Cas kisses away his salty tears.

“Were you lying?” Cas asks, pressing his cheek against Dean’s. “When you said you always wanted me?” Dean shakes his head.

“No,” Dean says, barely audible. Cas kisses his cheek.

“Then there’s nothing to be sorry about.” When Dean looks back up at him, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips, and Cas dives in to taste it.


	9. Matching Soulmate Markings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So we’re—" Dean says, and Castiel turns around, nodding.
> 
> "I thought I’d never find you," Castiel admits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slight homophobia cw  
> otherwise, enjoy!! xox

About half of the world is born with their soulmate’s handprints already raised on their skin. Reddish, burn-like markings, that stories have passed down that the marks show the true love’s passion, fiery hot. 

Dean was born with his. A handprint on his shoulder that nearly covered his whole arm at the time of his birth. His soulmate was at least five years older than him, the doctors told his parents. And by the shape of the handprint, his soulmate was a man. 

Dean never flaunted his handprint, not the way that others did. Even though half of the population had same-sex markings, he grew up with a father who showed his disapproval that Dean was destined to be with a man. His mother and brother were supportive, but Dean always saw the look in his father’s eye; the disappointment that his eldest son was gay.

But Dean didn’t  _feel_  gay. He liked women and men just the same (and experimented with both). Just because his soulmate was a man didn’t mean he would end up with him. Hundreds of people chose people who weren’t their soulmates. Dean could just settle down with a girl, make everyone happy. 

"Tell us how you met again," Sammy says, breaking Dean out of his thoughts. His mother pats his father’s hand across the table. 

"We were classmates, and your mother  _hated_  me—” Their father starts, and Mary shakes her head and interrupts him.

"I didn’t hate you, I just thought you were a jerk. And he was a jerk, up until the first time we touched." Mary says. John rolls his eyes.

"I was teasing her, and she pushed my stomach, right on the handprint, and I grabbed her wrist, and my hand fit on the handprint on her wrist." John smiles at Mary, and she smiles back. "And then, we stopped hating each other."

Dean smiles, and Sam chuckles. 

"You’re going to be late for school, Sam," his mother says. "And Dean, you’ll be late for work." She kisses them both on the top of their heads, and they wolf down the rest of their breakfast and scramble into Dean’s car.

"You know, you’ll probably have a better story than mom and dad’s," Dean says as he drives his brother to school. "You’re pretty much the sweetest kid." Sam punches his arm.

"Shut up. I bet yours will be better than mine," Sam says, and then the car goes quiet.

"I think not," Dean says after a minute. "I like Lisa, you know—"

"No, Dean, you play pretend with Lisa." Sam says, crossing his arms, and Dean guffaws. 

"As if you’d know! You’ve been holding out for Mrs. Right! How could you possibly—"

"Because I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You’ll be happier with your soulmate. Just let it happen. Forget Dad." Sam says, and Dean parks the car outside of the high school. Sam turns to him before opening the door. "You deserve to find your soulmate, Dean." He says, and slams the door after he gets out.

Sam’s right, of course. Lisa is great, and loving, but Dean knows he couldn’t possibly take her away from someone who would love her passionately, something he cannot do. He loves her, sure, but Lisa deserves more. She deserves her soulmate.

And maybe, so does he.

He pulls up to Singer’s Salvage Yard and parks his precious impala in his usual spot before walking in and starting his work day. He opted out of his college option after finishing high school and became Bobby’s go-to mechanic at his own business. He’d lost his wife some time ago, the handprint over his heart faded from his body as she left the world. 

"Gotta good one for you today, son," Bobby says, not looking up from his desk. "Poor chump hasn’t ever gotten his car checked, some lousy Volkswagen Jetta, engine shot. You up for it?"

"Who the fuck lets their car get that bad?" Dean mumbles, and then backtracks. "Who the fuck buys a Jetta?" Bobby laughs, and throws Dean the car keys.

"Not everyone’s a genius like you, Dean." Bobby grumbles, and Dean shakes his head.

"You’re the one who speaks Japanese, dude," he says, and hightails it out of there before Bobby can throw anything at him. 

He works on the Jetta all day, frustration and aggravation growing for this client. When he’s at his wit’s end, he decides it’s probably best to either replace the engine or to use this hunk of junk for the scrap metal it is. He goes to call a parts place the Salvage Yard does business, and when he comes back, a man is standing in front of the Jetta, trench coat flapping almost dramatically in the soft Kansas wind. 

"Hey, you the guy who owns this hunk of junk?" Dean calls as he gets close to the guy, and before Dean can think, he watches this guy trip backwards over some spare parts he left lying around while he made the call. He rushes forward and manages to catch the guy, his hands splayed across his back, pushing him upwards, and the guy turns around with a thankful look on his face, and plants his hand right on the handprint on his shoulder. 

Dean’s eyes widen as he gives this guy a once-over. His hair is dark, and mussed, as if this guy has just rolled out of bed, and has the five-o-clock shadow to match. His jaw is cut, his lips pink and plump, and his eyes — god, his  _eyes_ , the most beautiful shade of blue he’s ever seen.

The guy stares back with the same kind of focus Dean has, and after a minute, he speaks.

"Dean, would you mind… Could I see your handprint, please?" He asks.

"How did you know my name?" Dean breathes, and Castiel nods to Dean’s nametag on his jumpsuit. Dean chuckles, and feels a blush spread over his face, and unzips his jumpsuit to his waist, just enough to pull his shirt up, revealing the red, scarred flesh in the shape of a handprint.

"May I?" Castiel asks, his eyes flipping from Dean’s shoulder to his face and back, and Dean nods dumbly. Castiel places his hand on Dean’s shoulder, smiling as his fingers fit perfectly onto the mark. Dean breathes out slowly, a smile spreading across his face. He’s found his soulmate.

"Could I see yours?" He asks, and Castiel reddens. 

"Perhaps there’s a room where we could get more privacy?" He asks, and Dean nods, ushering him into Bobby’s office, past the grumbling man, and into the break room. 

"I haven’t even gotten your name, yet," Dean says, and Castiel shrugs his trench coat off.

"Castiel." He says, and shrugs off his suit jacket as well. Dean nods dumbly as Castiel starts unbuttoning his shirt. Dean follows the man’s deft fingers as they make quick work of the offending buttons. Castiel turns around and Dean watches in awe as Castiel’s back muscles strain and pull at his skin, and his eyes widen as he sees his own handprints splayed across Castiel’s back, dark red and puffy, as if they’ve only just been burned.

"So we’re—" Dean says, and Castiel turns around, nodding.

"I thought I’d never find you," Castiel admits, pulling his shirt back on, and Dean isn’t quite sure what to say to that. 

"I’ve had the mark since I was born," Dean says. "I have the baby pictures to prove it." He laughs, and Castiel smiles softly.

"I woke up one morning with them. The tiniest baby hands you could imagine, and I was so happy, I ran to show my parents. I’ve always loved your handprints, Dean. They’re quite like angel wings." Dean feels himself redden again, and looks away from Castiel’s piercing gaze. 

"I always kinda thought mine looked badass," Dean says after a minute. "Like someone pulling me out of hell, calling dibs on me, or… something." Dean says, scratching the back of his head. He’s never admitted those thoughts to anyone before, but Cas comes along, and suddenly he’s able to open up about his thoughts as if he’s known Cas all his life.

"Dean, would you like to go get some coffee with me?" Castiel asks, and Dean smiles as he looks back up at Castiel’s hoping face.

"How am I supposed to say no to my soulmate?" He replies, and Castiel smiles a big, gummy thing, and Dean finds himself in love all at once.


	10. Deserted Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He… really likes you.” Sam says, sounding bewildered, and Dean shoots a Look up at him.
> 
> “Of course he likes me, I’m fucking awesome.” Dean says, and Cas chirps an agreeable sound. It brings a smile back to his face, and when he looks back down at Cas, he’s smiling too, and even his sharpened teeth look adorable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Octo!Cas! Had to I love it. Enjoy!

“I should have fucking known,” Dean grumbles for the hundredth time, throwing bundles of sticks onto a growing pile of firewood. “’Let’s go see the sights, Dean!’” He mimicks Sammy’s voice. “’We can finally have a day off!’”

“Dean, you act like I knew this would happen,” Sam says, his voice aggravated. “Or like I planned for the boat to break down or something.” Dean breaks the tree branch in his hands in half and throws them as hard as he can.

“Fuck!” He screams, and Sam sighs.

“You’re overreacting. Charlie knows we went on the boat ride. She’ll send someone after us soon enough.” Sam says, always the voice of reason.

“Whatever, dude. Just as long as she doesn’t go off with the hot brunette from the bar, maybe we’ll get the hell off the island.” Dean says, and he can practically hear Sam’s aggravated face. The rest of their firewood gathering is tense and silent, both brothers aggravated with each other and the situation.

When the sun sets in its entirety, the sky black all except for the waning moon and the sparkle of stars dancing across the small waves of the ocean, they start to set the fire. The matches and Dean’s lighter were casualties in their misadventure, so Dean spends his time angrily trying to get a spark to light their fire. The cold numbs his hands, and on accident, he cuts the entirety of his palm on his pocketknife.

“Fucking--! God fucking dammit!” He yells, and makes his way, stomping over to the water of the ocean. He washes the cut out, and rips a part of his shirt to wrap the wound, grumbling obscenities through the entire ordeal. He stays on the shore, crouched down by the water, and wonders to himself what he did to deserve everything that’s ever happened in his life. What’s the reasoning behind both of his parents dying? Why were he and Sam raised to hunt monsters? Why the fuck couldn’t he possibly have any luck in his entire life?

He rubs his eyes, wiping his hand down his face, and looks down to see two very bright blue eyes looking up at him from the water.

“What the _fuck_ —“ He scrambles back, falling on his ass, and runs back to the fire, which, somehow, Sam has managed to build himself.

“It’s almost like boy scouts,” Sam says, chuckling. “How’s your hand?” He asks, and turns to see Dean’s stricken face. “What’s your issue?”

“There’s a, a, a _thing_ , in the water!” Dean stammers, and Sam cocks his head amusedly.

“Is this your way of getting back at me? I’m not falling for it,” Sam says, crossing his arms. Dean shakes his head.

“No, Sam. I looked in the water, and, two big eyes were lookin’ right up at me,” Dean makes circles of his hands and puts them over his eyes, for emphasis. Sam rolls his eyes and stokes the fire.

“Whatever, dude.”

“I’ll fuckin’ show you then!” Dean grabs his brother’s shoulder and pulls him to the water. Sam looks around and shrugs.

“I don’t see anything, Dean.” He says, and turns to walk back to the fire. Dean’s about to protest when there’s a splash coming from the water. Sam turns back around and gapes as he sees it. Dean was right. There’s something in the water.

“What is it?” Dean asks, looking the thing over. The top part of him looks human enough, besides the gills on his neck and his sharpened teeth. But his bottom half, well, he’s—

“He’s half octopus!” Sam says, and crouches down to eye-level.

“Dude, what if he’s dangerous?” Dean says, pulling at his arm to get him back up, and Sam shrugs him off.

“No way, dude, look at him. He’s more than capable of killing us, easy. If he wanted to, he’d have already done it.” Sam turns his attention back to the half-octopus, and Dean grumbles as he crouches down beside him and does the same. The whatever-he-is is wide-eyed, looking at the brothers with the same intensity as Dean and Sam have on him. His lips are purple-y, and plump, and his dark hair is matted down on his head.

“Do you have a name?” Sam asks, his voice gentle, and the half-octopus nods.

“Can you talk?” Dean asks, voice not so gentle, and the thing opens its mouth, little screamy sounds coming from his throat.

“Guess not,” Sam says. Dean stares at the thing as it keeps mouthing something, and eventually, he starts to understand.

“Cas? Your name?” Dean asks, and the thing nods, smiling at Dean.

“He likes you,” Sam says, smiling, and Dean scoffs.

“He’s just happy we know his name.” Dean brushes off, but the way Cas is looking at him makes him think differently. He hasn’t really given Sam much more than a once-over, but he’s looking at Dean like he’s some kind of _god_ , and honestly, if Dean’s being honest, it’s a lot cuter than it should be.

“Well, I’m Sam,” Sam says, and then points to Dean. “That’s my brother, Dean.” Cas looks at Sam momentarily, and nods, and then focuses back on Dean.

“Dean.” He says, less screamy than before, and Dean huffs a laugh.

“Nice to meet you, Cas,” he says, holding out his hand, and Cas takes it in his, pulling off the plaid scrap of cloth Dean used to patch up his cut. “Whoa-ho, man, easy!” Dean says, and Cas drags a chilly finger down the cut. He looks up at Dean with sad eyes, and Dean shrugs.

“It’s just a cut,” he explains. “It’ll heal.” Why he’s trying to console this thing he’ll never understand, but Cas keeps whining as he looks at the cut and back up at Dean, and honestly, it’s breaking his heart.

“He… _really_ likes you.” Sam says, sounding bewildered, and Dean shoots a Look up at him.

“Of course he likes me, I’m fucking awesome.” Dean says, and Cas chirps an agreeable sound. It brings a smile back to his face, and when he looks back down at Cas, he’s smiling too, and even his sharpened teeth look adorable.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam says, and the half-octopus looks down up at him. “Is there a way to get us back to the port? The city?” He asks, and Cas drops Dean’s hand and looks up at the other brother. His eyes look sad, and Dean tries to make his eyes pleading. Cas searches Dean’s eyes for a moment, and then nods, looking back over at Sam. “Yes?” Sam asks, and Cas keeps nodding.

“Can you show us?” Dean asks, and Cas mouths words, screaming noises almost impossible to decode. After a couple minutes of them trying to communicate, Dean figures it out.

“No, you cannot sink other ships for us, Cas, what the hell?” Dean shouts, and Cas ducks his head under water.

“Dude!” Sam punches his arm. “He’s only trying to help. He’s not civilized, he lives in the goddamn ocean!” Dean feels a pang of hurt echo through his body and looks down at Cas, his eyes sad and bright even by the distortion of the water he’s beneath.

“Sorry, Cas. Come up here, please?” Dean says, and Cas peeks his eyes out of the water. “We don’t want to hurt anyone, Cas. We just wanna go home.” Dean says, softly, and Cas nods and starts mouthing ‘boat’.

“Yeah, we have a boat,” Dean says. And Cas nods. He mouths ‘push boat’, and Dean smiles. “You can push the boat?” Cas smiles and nods, and grabs Dean’s arms, pulling himself up and pressing his face into Dean’s chest. Dean pauses for a second, shocked to the core that he’s practically being hugged, and then laughs, and wraps an arm around Cas’ back.

“Tomorrow morning?” Sam coughs, and Cas breaks away from Dean and nods solemnly in Sam’s direction.

“Stay?” He looks at Dean, and Dean nods.

“We’ll stay the night, but we have to go back—“ Cas whines, a horrible, pathetic sound, and Dean bites his lip. “We can’t stay, Cas.”

“You stay,” Cas says, and Dean chuckles.

“I have to go back, too.” He says, and Cas shakes his head. “Yes, I do.” Cas’ brow furrows, and he shakes his head harder.

“Mate.” Cas says, and Dean nearly chokes on his own tongue.

“What?!” Sam and Dean say together, and Cas holds onto Dean’s arm.

“Mate.” He repeats, and looks up at Dean shyly.

“Dude, he chose you as a mate!” Sam says, almost hysterically, and Dean feels himself heat up. On land, sure, Cas would be one hell of a guy to shack up with, but the problem here was Cas’ bottom half. The octopus part.

“Cas, you gotta understand, I’m a human. I can’t give you children or—I’m not into bestiality either, honestly. If you had some legs and a dick, sure, man, but—“ Cas’ eyes fill with tears, and he starts whimpering. “Oh fuck, Cas, don’t cry, I’m sorry—“ Dean says, and Cas buries his face into Dean’s leg. Dean looks helplessly over to his brother, who’s trying to cover his laughter. Dean pats Cas’ head tenderly, and Cas looks up at him with watery eyes.

“Love Dean.” He says, and Dean’s heart melts.

“Fuck, Cas.” Dean wipes tears from Cas’ face. “Sammy, how much do you think it’d cost to build some kinda house here?”


	11. Met In a Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cas, please tell me this isn’t just a dream.” Dean says, grasping onto his arm for dear life, and Castiel smiles sadly.
> 
> “This is a dream, Dean. But I will save you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is super short, sorry! Enjoy!

Dean dreams in hell. Choking nightmares of cutting Sam open, smelling his brother’s guts as they spill out from him by Dean’s own hand. There’s never a peaceful moment in hell, not in the 40 years he’s been strung up, or more recently, torturing other souls himself.

Every cut into another soul brings him closer to his own demonization, and he can’t stop. He can’t go back to being tortured.

Dean dreams, but even sleep doesn’t come peaceful.

Which is why it’s so strange to have this bright, warm light clouding the usual darkness of his mind. He’d say heavenly, if it weren’t for the fact he was stuck in hell for the rest of his miserable life.

“The righteous man has broken the first seal,” a voice says, but it’s not exactly a voice. It’s like screaming, like radio static and crows and something majestic as well.

“Who the hell are you?” Dean screams back. He’s hostile, and afraid, but the warm, bright light never flickers, never hesitates.

“You will be saved, Dean Winchester,” it says again, and Dean scoffs.

“This is another of Alistair’s tricks!” He shouts, tears brimming his eyes, threatening to spill over. The light touches his chest, warmth bleeding through his entire body. He feels his body calm, but the tears trickle down his cheeks anyway.

“You will be saved,” the voice says again, and Dean reaches out, feels the light solidify beneath his fingers.

“Who are you?” He asks, softly, and the light takes form of a man, bright blue eyes soft and understanding. His dark hair wisps around his face, and Dean holds on for dear life.

“Castiel.” He says, simply, and Dean nods.

“Cas, please tell me this isn’t just a dream.” Dean says, grasping onto his arm for dear life, and Castiel smiles sadly.

“This is a dream, Dean. But I will save you.” Castiel reaches forward, and grabs Dean’s shoulder. A searing hot pain ripples through his body at the touch, and all Dean can think of is Castiel’s trusting eyes as he falls into unconsciousness. 


	12. Arranged Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daphne Allen, his betrothed, looked thrilled across the stage from him, running over and grabbing his arm, giggling and smiling from ear to ear. Castiel had feigned a smile and glanced over at one of his father’s personnel, who was stone-faced and glaring ahead, not even caring how desperately Castiel was trying to get his attention. 
> 
> He wasn’t in love with Daphne. He was in love with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short, sweet, and to the point. Enjoy!!

Castiel gazes out at his parents’ massive plot of land from the dining room window, wondering when exactly his life all fell to shit.

He was engaged to marry, announced by his parents at a community gathering. It was the first he heard of it. 

Daphne Allen, his betrothed, looked thrilled across the stage from him, running over and grabbing his arm, giggling and smiling from ear to ear. Castiel had feigned a smile and glanced over at one of his father’s personnel, who was stone-faced and glaring ahead, not even caring how desperately Castiel was trying to get his attention. 

He wasn’t in love with Daphne. He was in love with Dean.

"Daphne will make a great wife, Castiel," his mother says, pattng his arm, and Castiel bites his tongue.

"Yes, mother." He says, and Dean catches his eye from across the room. 

Dean looks angry, and sad, and frustrated, all in one, and Castiel tries to plead his case with his eye contact, to tell Dean that this wasn’t his decision, that he didn’t  _know_. 

Dean clenches his jaw and looks away, glaring into the distance as his family finishes eating dinner.

Castiel has no appetite, however. He needs Dean to understand more than he needs a tasteless dish. He excuses himself, asking Dean to escort him into the garden.

"Congratulations on the engagement, Mr. Novak," Dean says, snippy, as they leave the house, and Cas sighs.

"Dean, I swear on my life, I had no part in this. I found out about this engagement while I was on the stage today." He puts his hand on Dean’s shoulder, and pulls him so they’re looking at each other.

"You could have said—" Dean starts, and Castiel rolls his eyes.

"I could have made a scene in front of the community? My father’s the lord consul." Castiel says. "How was I supposed to make my family look bad by making a scene that way?"

"Are you going to marry her, Cas?" Dean’s voice whispers, harsh, and Castiel sighs.

"I…" Castiel says, and looks up at Dean. His eyes are so painfully sad it sends a wave of hurt throughout his whole body. They seem to scream ‘Cas, please don’t say you’re marrying Daphne’, and Cas wants to kiss him until that look wipes off his face forever. "I must." He says, and Dean purses his lips, looks away, and nods.

"I’ll escort you to the garden, Mr. Novak," Dean says, his voice wobbling, and Castiel feels his heart snap in his chest. They walk in a pained silence until they get to the garden doors, and Dean opens the door for him. Castiel wishes he doesn’t see the tears in Dean’s eyes. The garden door shuts, and Cas feels Dean’s familiar hands on his arm and lower back.

"Dean," Castiel starts, and turns, and Dean surges forward and kisses him, hard and rushed and possessive.

"She can’t have you like this, Cas," Dean says, holding onto the sides of Castiel’s face, and Cas chokes back a sob. "She can’t have you, angel." He says, and pushes another hard kiss onto Castiel’s lips. 

"I’m yours," Castiel says, and Dean nods, holding Cas close and licking into his mouth, hot and desperate. "All yours, Dean." He says, his hands grabbing Dean’s back. Their kisses are all teeth and tongue and the taste of tears, and Castiel can’t seem to get close enough to make this heartbreak leave his chest.

"Run away with me, Cas. Come with me, We can leave this place." Dean says, his hands painfully clasped on Cas’ face, and Cas can only nod.

"Yes, Dean."


	13. Handcuffed Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm assuming if your incredible skill of picking locks hasn't worked by now, that there's a spell placed on the handcuffs that keeps us locked together." Castiel says. Dean promptly ignores the surge of pride that heats his body at Cas' compliment, and instead rolls his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is disgustingly fluffy I'm so sorry. Enjoy!

"Fuck!" Dean shouts for the twentieth time, trying (and failing) to pick the lock of the handcuffs. Becky (fucking  _Becky_ ), somehow managed to con them into thinking they were actually on a case, a witch case, and came up from behind he and Cas, handcuffing them together, and locking them in the room. Her over joyful voice rang from outside the door, and both Dean and Cas had pounded their fists on the door until they were sure no one was around to hear them anymore.

"Has Becky been performing witchcraft long?" Castiel asks, far too calm for Dean's liking, and Dean shrugs.

"Is this what this is? Witchcraft?" Dean says, slumping against the wall, and Castiel nods.

"I'm assuming if your incredible skill of picking locks hasn't worked by now, that there's a spell placed on the handcuffs that keeps us locked together." Castiel says. Dean promptly ignores the surge of pride that heats his body at Cas' compliment, and instead rolls his eyes.

"So, what? We sit here and suffer?" He asks. Cas gives him a sharp look.

"I'm sorry my company is comparable to torture, Dean." He says, and pointedly looks away before Dean can say a word.

"C'mon, Cas. I'm just sayin', we're in this room, locked together, with no tv or books or, well, anything." Dean says. Castiel doesn't respond. "You're such a moody ex-angel." Dean mumbles, and Castiel uses their handcuffed hands to smack him in his face. "Asshole!" Dean says, laughing, and Castiel manages to keep his gleeful smile small on his face.

"I'm not interesting, Dean?" Castiel asks, and fuck, his voice shouldn't sound that sad.

"That's not what I'm sayin'. I just think eventually, we're gonna get bored of sittin' around talkin' about whatever." Dean says. Castiel gives him a Look. 

"Then perhaps we should try to figure out what kind of spell Becky put on these handcuffs." Castiel says, his tone of voice angry. Dean nods, feeling his words are only going to get him farther into the pit with his best friend. 

"Maybe it's like, when she kisses Sam--" Castiel's head shoots up with a shocked look on his face. "--yeah, dude, she digs Sam, are you blind -- then they'll unlock, and like... she wants to keep us out of her way." Dean says. Castiel nods.

"That's a fair theory," Castiel says. Dean rubs his temple with his free hand. 

"Well, there's another thing, but, I don't know, I might be reading into it." Dean says, and Castiel tilts his head and waits for Dean to explain. "Becky was kinda, super, giggly around me and you. She usually hates me, for whatever reason. But this time, she kept looking at us, together, and--" Castiel cuts Dean off.

"You believe she put a spell on the handcuffs that will only unlock after  _we_  share a kiss." Castiel says, and Dean nods. Castiel's cheeks go pink, and Dean'd laugh if he weren't so concerned with the red flush heating up his ears and neck. 

"Becky used to think me and  _Sam_ \--" Dean says, avoiding the inevitable kiss Castiel and he will have to share, just to test the theory, of course. He laughs when Cas' face breaks out into an open-mouthed gape.

"You're brothers!" He says, and Dean nods.

"Didn't seem to matter so much. And then she put some kinda love spell on Sam and they got married, which was totally weird."

"She's much too focused on love," Castiel says. Dean rolls his eyes.

"Love is important," Dean defends, although he's not sure why. Castiel's mouth turns into a small smile, and Dean feels his ears redden again.

"You're a romantic at heart," Castiel says. Dean wants to die. 

"Dude, don't, I'm not--" Dean says, embarrassed, and Castiel's fingers lace through his. He's so shocked at the intimate gesture that he loses all train of thought. He looks back up at Cas and swallows a lump in his throat, and the next thing he knows, he's surging forward and pressing his lips against the ex-angel's, reveling in the sharp intake of breath Cas takes when their lips touch. His lips are soft, so soft, and fuck, why hasn't he been kissing Cas all along?

The handcuffs fall free from their hands, and clatter to the floor, but they're too busy (or don't care enough) to notice. 

And when Becky and Sam come in ten minutes later to check up on them, they don't even pull apart when Becky lets out a high-pitched squeal (or maybe it was Sam), and hear the door slam immediately afterwards. 


	14. Stripper AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most strippers don’t move with the same kind of passion that this man does, with his green eyes sparkling with delight and shining, straight white teeth showing off from his smile, spread from ear to ear. 
> 
> Castiel can’t look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW!!! enjoy (:

It’s probably sinful for someone to move the way the man in the cowboy hat moves on stage. The outfit he’s wearing couldn’t be more stereotypical; assless chaps, cowboy boots, and the hat to top it off, but Castiel is entranced with the man’s movements.

And his smile.

Most strippers don’t move with the same kind of passion that this man does, with his green eyes sparkling with delight and shining, straight white teeth showing off from his smile, spread from ear to ear. 

Castiel can’t look away.

The man’s hips swing to the beat of the music, and he swings around the pole, arm muscles flexing. Castiel can’t even tell if he’s turned on, he’s so intrigued by this man.

He tosses his hat into the crowd, and some lucky woman raises it up, waving it around like she’s won a trophy. Castiel thinks maybe she has. 

When the song ends, the man is dripping with sweat, and nearly naked, all except for the cowboy hat around his genitals. By this time, Castiel’s both intrigued and turned on.

"Could I interest you in a lap dance from him?" A voice asks, beside him, and Castiel looks up to a well-dressed man, a little smug smile on his face. 

"Yes, I think." Castiel says, noting for the first time how dry his throat is. The man nods and gestures Castiel to follow him. His heart pounds in his chest like he’s a virgin bride being led to her first night in her husband’s bed, but somehow he makes it to the back room, gets the "don’t touch, don’t harass, and there better be no stains on the couch when you leave" speech, and then, he waits for the man with the lively green eyes.

He vaguely remembers that he’s left his brother completely unaware of his whereabouts when the stripper walks into the room, smiling shyly as he sees Castiel sitting on the couch. 

This is an entirely new side of this man he’s seeing, shy and quiet, and almost looking nervous.

"So, hey," he says, and Castiel feels his face flush red. His voice is just as sexy as the rest of him. 

"Hello," Castiel says, swallowing a lump in his throat, and Dean smiles.

"Hey, no need to be nervous, man," he says, but Castiel can still see some nervousness behind those green eyes.

"I could say the same to you," Castiel says, and the man’s cheeks go pink. He looks up into Cas’ eyes and looks for a moment.

"You can tell this is my first time?" He asks, and fuck, Castiel shouldn’t be that affected by the man’s innocent act. 

"What’s your name?" Castiel asks, and the man bites his lip.

"Michael," he says after a moment, and Castiel squints his eyes.

"Well, if your name truly is Michael, I must say that’s an inconvenient coincidence. My brother’s name is Michael." Castiel says, and the man tries to hide his smile.

"Dean," he says, and Castiel smiles. "What’s yours?" He asks, and at this point, Castiel is sure this isn’t how private dances are supposed to go.

"Castiel," he says, ignoring his own realistic thoughts. "You don’t have to do this, the private dance, if you don’t want to." Castiel says, and Dean’s eyes shoot up to meet his again, full of, what, sadness?

"You don’t want—?" Dean trails off, and Castiel backtracks.

"Of course I  _want_ , Dean. But if you’re not comfortable—” Dean interrupts him.

"I want you leaving here remembering my name," Dean says, confidence pouring off of him again, and Castiel shuts his gaping mouth. He nods slowly, and Dean starts the music, some kind of classic rock song that emanates sex. 

Castiel watches in awe as Dean starts moving, his body rocking and hips swinging, and his eyes focused solely on Castiel. This man has the power of ripping him apart, making him vulnerable, and somehow, Castiel is okay with that. 

Dean moves closer to him, and Castiel can almost smell the sex rolling off of him in waves. Dean leans in and whispers, “you got the no touching talk?” Castiel nods dumbly, and answers a quick affirmation. “Pretend you didn’t.” He whispers, his breath hot on Castiel’s face. Dean straddles him, legs spread obscenely over his lap, and rolls his hips down, a bulge rubbing hot and heavy against Castiel’s own.

"Dean?" Castiel says, his voice wrecked, and Dean shakes his head.

"Touch," he whispers, and pulls Castiel’s hands up to wrap around his hips. Dean is hot to the touch, and Castiel revels as Dean reacts to his touch, arching and making little hot panting noises as Castiel moves his fingers and cups his ass, squeezing softly.

"This is against the rules," Castiel says, rubbing circles against the thin fabric covering Dean’s pert ass, and Dean presses himself against Castiel, grabbing his head and pulling it to look up at him. 

"Free will, and all that, Cas," he says, and Castiel nods. "I want this, want you." He says, and circles his hips, his ass rubbing wonderfully over Cas’ clothed cock. 

"I’ve never heard better news," Castiel says, and dips his fingers under the cloth, grabbing Dean’s bare ass and enjoying the soft moan Dean lets out as he spreads his legs farther.

"C’mon, Cas, pants off," Dean whispers hot against his ear, and feels Dean’s fingers pulling at the button of his slacks. Castiel pushes his hips off of the couch, and lets Dean pull his pants down boxers not concealing much of his cock. Dean moans at the sight of Cas’ tented underwear, and reaches his hand down the offending piece of fabric, and touches Cas’ cock feather-light.

"Dean!" Cas whispers, and pulls Dean in by the neck into a hot kiss. Dean moans into his mouth, and pulls Cas’ cock out of his boxers, and Cas does the same, gripping Dean’s cock and rubbing his thumb over the head, smearing precome down the length. "So wet for me," he hears himself say, and Dean moans, thrusting into Cas’ grip. 

"Wanna come with you, Cas, gotta come," Dean babbles, and starts jerking Cas off with an experienced hand. Castiel does his best to match Dean’s movements, and they move in closer into an open-mouthed kiss, doing nothing more than moaning and panting into each other’s mouths as they begin to reach their peak. Dean whines and squirms on top of him, and Castiel knows Dean’s about to spill over any second. 

"You clean?" Castiel asks, and Dean nods. Castiel pushes Dean flat onto the couch and smiles before he wraps his mouth around Dean’s thick, leaking cock. Dean gasps softly, and grabs handfuls of Cas’ hair, and soon, he’s coming into Cas’ mouth, hot, bitter stripes of his release almost addicting. Dean scrambles to his knees and kneels between Cas’ knees, and wraps his full, plump, spit-slicked mouth around Cas’ cock, head bobbing enthusiastically. Castiel grips Dean’s shoulder tight and bites down his own moans as he thrusts softly into Dean’s mouth, hot quick panic as Dean swallows him down, looking up at him behind his long eyelashes. 

Cas comes soundlessly, and watches as Dean’s face goes blissful, watches Dean as he swallows and licks up every last drop of come from his cock. They redress quickly, exchanging kisses and smiles, and when Cas hears a knock at the door, he knows his time with Dean is up.

"I don’t do this for everyone," Dean says softly, and Castiel can see the embarrassment in his eyes.

"I’d hope not," he smiles at Dean. "Because after this, you’ll never get rid of me." He grabs a pen from his pocket and scribbles his number on Dean’s hand. When he looks back up at the green-eyed man, there’s nothing but happiness radiating in his eyes.

Cas walks out of the private room, sated and disheveled, and happier than he’s been in months.

"Cas, you sly dog!" Gabriel’s voice booms from the other side of the club, and Castiel rolls his eyes. When Gabriel gets closer, his eyes go wide.

"Gabriel, shush," Castiel warns, but his brother’s shocked mouth widens into a smile.

"You dirty, sly dog!" He says, and even though he’ll never hear the end of this, the buzz of his phone with a message saying " _when can i see you again?_ " from a number he can only assume is Dean’s, makes him the happiest he’s been in a long time. 


	15. Office Romance AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DEAN
> 
> Me and Cas? [scoffs] That's ridiculous. 
> 
> Footage of DEAN watching CASTIEL plays as DEAN's voice over plays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRYING MY HARDEST TO SCRIPT WRITE THIS MOTHER  
> enjoy (:

Supernatural Office AU

 

1\. INT. OFFICE - EARLY MORNING

   DEAN, with brother SAM, enter office, both weary-eyed. DEAN yawns. CASTIEL already sitting behind reception desk. 

DEAN

Mornin', Cas.

   CASTIEL smiles at the desk. He looks up at DEAN, still smiling.

CASTIEL

Hello, Dean.

   SAM looks pointedly at camera, raising his eyebrows. He's clearly not impressed with his brother's flirting. Even more so by being ignored by CASTIEL.

CASTIEL

Good morning, Sam.

   CASTIEL looks at camera, as if he's been caught stealing. Camera pans over to DEAN, who sits now behind his desk. He's still looking at CASTIEL.

SAM (V.O.)

My brother and Cas? Yeah, who knows. You get the feeling, you know, sometimes, that there's something there, but there's never... definite proof.

   CASTIEL and DEAN, looking at each other, while SAM's voice talks over the footage. CASTIEL wears a soft smile, and DEAN's eyes are fond.

2\. SAM, TALKING HEAD

SAM

I've watched them eye [BLEEP] for six years.

   SAM sits silently, looking at the camera almost exasperated.

3\. INT. OFFICE - CAMERA FOCUSED ON CASTIEL  


    CASTIEL looking at DEAN, and then to camera. He scrambles to answer the phone, which isn't ringing.

4. CASTIEL, TALKING HEAD

CASTIEL

Me and Dean? We're best friends

CASTIEL (cont'd., V.O.)

   Footage of DEAN and CASTIEL laughing and making eyes play as CASTIEL's voice speaks over. 

You know, he's a good guy, Dean. Funny. Selfless. Loyal.

CASTIEL (cont'd., back to talking head)

   CASTIEL looks doe-eyed.

He's a good man.

5. INT. BREAK ROOM - DEAN AND CAS EATING AT A TABLE

   DEAN is telling a story, CASTIEL laughing quietly, his shoulders shaking.

DEAN

And then the bastard glued my beer bottle to my hand! I mean, how immature is that!

   CASTIEL continues laughing, shaking his head. DEAN looks at CASTIEL fondly, smiling from ear to ear.

6. DEAN, TALKING HEAD

DEAN

Me and Cas? [scoffs] That's ridiculous. 

   Footage of DEAN watching CASTIEL plays as DEAN's voice over plays.

DEAN (cont'd., V.O.)

I mean, he's just a weird, nerdy little dude.

   Footage of DEAN watching CASTIEL answer the phone plays.

DEAN (cont'd., V.O.)

He's been my best friend for... years.

   Footage of DEAN and CASTIEL outside in the parking lot smiling and talking plays.

DEAN (cont'd., TALKING HEAD)

   DEAN is biting his lip, avoiding looking at the camera.

We're friends, period.

7. INT. BREAK ROOM - SAM SITS AT TABLE WITH DEAN AND CASTIEL  


    DEAN and CASTIEL noticeably move away from each other. SAM looks at camera, eyebrows raised.

SAM

Did I interrupt your date?

    DEAN punches SAM's shoulder. CASTIEL's eyes widen and he looks at camera, embarrassed, mumbles under his breath, and leaves the break room.

DEAN

Dude, what is your deal? You're making him uncomfortable.

   SAM looks up at camera, lips pursed. DEAN looks at camera, scowling.

DEAN (cont'd.)

What is this documentary even about?

   Camera guy shakes the camera. DEAN is not supposed to talk at the cameras unless in the conference room. DEAN rolls his eyes and walks out of the break room. 

SAM

Sorry, dude.

   SAM leaves the break room. Camera guy sighs.

8\. INT. OFFICE - DEAN, CASTIEL, AND SAM PACKING UP FOR THE DAY

    SAM leaves the office, bag on his shoulder. CASTIEL and DEAN follow a moment later. They wait at the elevator.

DEAN

[BLEEP], I forgot something.

   DEAN runs back to office.

CASTIEL

I should... go with him.

   CASTIEL rushes after DEAN. Camera pans over to SAM, who is wearing a shit-eating grin. 

SAM (to the camera)

Go!

   SAM points down the hall to the office. Camera guy runs to the door, and sneaks the camera to look through the office window.

9. INT. OFFICE - BEHIND OFFICE DOOR

    Camera focuses in on DEAN and CASTIEL talking, much too close. DEAN grabs CASTIEL's tie, and pulls him in. CASTIEL smiles, and dives in, kissing DEAN, smiling from ear to ear.

10\. INT. OFFICE - THE NEXT DAY

   SAM smiles at desk. DEAN and CASTIEL focus on work.

11. SAM - TALKING HEAD

    SAM smiling, silent.

12. CASTIEL - TALKING HEAD

   CASTIEL wide-eyed, silent.

13. DEAN - TALKING HEAD

  DEAN guffawing, silent.

14. CASTIEL - TALKING HEAD

CASTIEL

You saw what?

15. DEAN - TALKING HEAD

DEAN

Oh, that was--

16. SAM - TALKING HEAD

SAM

I [BLEEP]ing knew it.

17. CASTIEL - TALKING HEAD

    CASTIEL, smiling shyly.

18. DEAN - TALKING HEAD

     DEAN, chewing on lip.

DEAN

Well, I guess the secret's out.

 


	16. 7 Minutes in Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Dean says, and Castiel’s breath is shaky on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fluff??? i don't even know anymore lmao enjoy!!

Dean thinks, maybe, there may actually be a God answering his prayers. He’s being shoved unceremoniously into the closet by Jo, who’s drunk off her ass and giggling, right behind Castiel Novak.

The guy he’s had a crush on since they were about seven.

Leave it to the Blonde Squad of Jo, Meg, and Ruby to suggest throwing back shots of honey whiskey and playing 7 Minutes of Heaven, something Dean had objected to at first, but was now thanking his lucky stars he didn’t.

Castiel laughs nervously as the Blonde Squad slams the door on the two of them, taunting voices of “don’t leave any stains”, and “oooh, Cas and _Dean_ ”.

Dean scratches the back of his head and laughs nervously as well, feeling the tension of their ten years of friendship (and Dean’s romantic frustration) permeate the air.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Castiel’s voice says, rough around the edges, and Dean huffs another laugh.

“Shut up, asshole,” Dean laughs. He leans against the back of the closet and bites his lip. “We don’t have to kiss or anything, you know. There’s no need to listen to the Blonde Squad.” Castiel is quiet on the other side of the closet, and Dean grows worried.

“I’ve never kissed anyone. Not really,” Castiel says. “I don’t think Meg counts because she did all of the kissing. I just stood there and kept my mouth shut.” Dean laughs, and Castiel joins in.

“I could… I could kiss you. You know, if you wanted me to?” Dean says, stumbling over his words. His hands are sweaty, and his heart is beating a quick rhythm in his chest. It seems like forever until Castiel finally responds.

“Okay, Dean.” His voice says, small, and uncertain, and Dean fumbles through the dark of the cluttered closet until his hands grasp around Castiel’s warm, bulky arms. He’s grown a lot in the ten years that Dean’s known him, even more so recently, becoming a part of the swim team, and gaining muscle where Dean has none.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” Dean says, and Castiel’s breath is shaky on his face.

“Okay,” he replies, and Dean leans in, pressing his lips against Cas’. It’s like everything he’s ever imagined, and yet so much more. His lips are warm, and plush, and move against Dean’s slowly and carefully, as if he’s wanted this just as much as Dean has. Dean’s tongue darts out to wet Cas’ lips, and Cas moans softly, reaching up and grabbing onto Dean’s shirt, pulling him close. Dean’s hands cup Cas’ head, his fingers raking through Cas’ soft tufts of dark hair, and their kiss turns into something innocent and new to something hot, and experienced.

“You sure you haven’t done this before?” Dean says, his voice harsh with arousal. Castiel just kisses him through it, his leg lifting between Dean’s thighs, pressing against the growing bulge in Dean’s jeans. Dean ruts against him, breathing hard between every kiss that Cas draws out of him, whining when Cas’ hands snake down his sides and cup his ass.

Dean’s nearly about to pass out from his luck when the door opens, light flooding into the closet, and three squealing girls interrupting their make out session. Castiel pulls away from Dean, huffing and smiling, and Dean does his very best to hide his erection pressing a hard line in his pants.

“It’s about time you two figured it out,” Meg says, drawling her words out carefully. Dean and Cas can do nothing more than exchange shy smiles, a promise between them that they’ll continue figuring this thing all out.


	17. Noble/Peasant AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your majesty?” Dean straightens his posture. Castiel walks up to him and takes his hand between his two.
> 
> “Wouldn’t it be wonderful to soar through the clouds?” He asks, his blue eyes shining with delight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a prince/knight thing lmao enjoy (sorry it's super short!)

The sun dances through the tufts of dark hair atop of Prince Castiel’s hair. His face is peaceful, eyes shut, and Dean thinks, for a second, that Castiel is one with the sky.

“I’ve always dreamt of flying,” the prince says, and Dean knows better than to talk. His place as a knight is to watch and protect the prince, not to spend his time on duty blabbering on. Castiel turns to him and smiles. “Dean,” he says, and Dean’s shocked to find out that the prince knows his name.

“Your majesty?” Dean straightens his posture. Castiel walks up to him and takes his hand between his two.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful to soar through the clouds?” He asks, his blue eyes shining with delight. Dean tries to bite back his own smile.

“After reading the tale of Icarus, I think not,” Dean says, and Castiel’s smile widens. He bites his lip and looks down at their hands, tilting his head as he studies Dean’s hand with absolute focus.

“My father says that if man were meant to fly, we would be born with wings,” Castiel says, not looking up at Dean. “But, Dean, I feel like I was meant for so much more than two feet planted on the ground.” He confesses. Dean’s voice gets caught in his throat.

When Castiel looks up at him, his eyes swim with tears. Dean’s instinct to reach forward and wipe away the prince’s tears takes over, and his thumb wipes the wetness from his cheekbone. Castiel leans into Dean’s touch, his eyes fluttering shut, and Dean cradles the prince’s head in his palm.

“Angels fly,” Dean says, surprising himself, and Castiel, who looks up with fond eyes. “My mother always said angels were looking over us.” Castiel’s smile is warm as he nods. “Maybe you’re less of a prince and more of an angel,” Dean’s voice whispers. Castiel’s breath catches, and without a second thought, he’s throwing himself onto Dean, kissing him hard, arms thrown around Dean’s shoulders.

There’s a knock at the door, and Castiel pulls himself away, smiling as he walks back over to the window. Dean bows his head as the visitor enters, Castiel’s maid announcing that dinner is served. Castiel thanks her, and she leaves, head bowed.

“Dean,” Castiel says, and Dean looks up at his prince again.

“Your majesty,” Dean responds. Castiel smiles, and steps forward, his fingers brushing along Dean’s arm.

“Would you be opposed to my security detail being upped in its hours?” He asks, a shy smile gracing his face, and Dean can’t help but to smile back.

“Your safety is the most important thing in the world to me,” he answers, and Castiel nods as he walks away. Dean follows him, trying hard to wipe the smile from his face.


	18. Orphan AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they get near, Castiel notices Dean. Brave, handsome, Dean, who sacrificed himself again and again so his brother wouldn’t be under his father’s wrath. Dean’s jaw is tight, his teeth obviously clenched, and his eyes hard from years of abuse. Castiel wants to rush forward, to hug him, to tell him everything’s going to be okay, that he’s safe now, that Sam is safe now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry! i was camping, so i'll be putting three more chapters up today!!! enjoy!

When Castiel falls, he crashes to earth small and wingless, millennia worth of knowledge in the mind of what looks to be a five year old boy. He’s never had a vessel before, but this seems to have formed organically. He never asked for this boy to give up his body. This is  _his_  body. He is human, he is alone, and he’s cut off from the heavenly host. For the first time as well, he is scared.

Castiel is found wandering the streets of Kansas by a woman named Missouri, who is drawn to Castiel's expelling from her own home, and who gives Castiel peace, her aura calming to him. He asks Missouri if she’s a seer, and she asks him if he’s an angel. When Castiel’s response is, “not anymore,” Missouri takes him to the police station, where he’s declared a warden of the state, and Missouri takes him in.

“You show so much kindness for someone you hardly know,” Castiel says, and Missouri just smiles.

“I know you, sweetness. I feel your heart radiating into mine. You are my child now, angel or not.” Castiel feels a warmth spread through his veins, his first smile creep along his face. For the first time in centuries, Castiel feels as if he has a home.

As the years go by, Missouri brings in more children, and eventually, starts her own orphanage. Castiel’s body grows, and so does his frustration. He’s never had to worry about his appearance until his fall, but now he is constantly aware of how his jeans fit improperly, how his hair gets too long, curled ends tickling the back of his neck, and finds his sexual organs responding to even the slightest movement of his jeans against his groin.

He finds no embarrassment going to Missouri with his complaints, and she finds humor in his frustrations.

“Puberty,” Missouri says, smiling amusedly. “You’re going through puberty.” Her eyes seem sad, and Castiel reaches out for her, pressing his palm flat against hers, the most intimate of gestures Castiel allows from his surrogate mother. She laces her fingers through his, and Castiel feels his heart warm.

“I love you,” Castiel says, his face serious, and Missouri’s eyes brighten.

“I love you too, baby.”

 

When Castiel is 17, and Missouri has transformed her dingy little orphanage to the most prestigious orphanage in all of Kansas, she knocks on his door holding two files, her lips pursed in anger. Castiel’s grown accustomed to all of Missouri’s facial expressions, and he immediately goes into concerned mode, throwing aside his math homework, and running forward to grab his mother’s arms. She sighs, and Castiel notices the tears sprinkling her eyelashes. He presses his forehead against hers, and for a moment, they sit in silence, gaining strength from each other, their breathing in unison.

“What’s wrong, mom?” He asks, and Missouri cups his face. She hands him the files, and walks out, and Castiel watches her walk away, the files burning in his clutch.

He opens the files and reads about the brothers, whose mother died in a fire when the older was four, and the younger was six months; reads how their father moved them around from state to state, never settling down, never letting his children have a home. He reads about the alcohol abuse, the child abuse, the marks on the eldest son that brings a sickening hard pit into his stomach. He reads about the one instance that the youngest was in the line of his father's rage, the emergency room visit, where he had to get fifteen stitches on his face from a beer bottle hitting him.

He reads the mangled testament of the 17 year old Dean Winchester, who, after 13 years of abuse from his father, finally turned him in after his younger brother was hurt.

He sits in his room for a while, face in his hands, the files spread across his bed, and wonders where his Father was while this was happening to the Winchester brothers.

 

The Winchesters show up a day later, each with a worn, tattered bag flung over their shoulders. The younger, Sam, has a red scar across his cheek, and the file’s words race through Castiel’s head, the pit of nausea resurfacing. Sam’s eyes are devoid of light, puffy and red from crying, his messy brown hair in his eyes. His clothes are two sizes too large, an indicator that he’s wearing his older brother’s clothes, and he looks defeated. Castiel looks at him with far too much pity, and Missouri coughs before they both walk up to their newest children.

When they get near, Castiel notices Dean. Brave, handsome, Dean, who sacrificed himself again and again so his brother wouldn’t be under his father’s wrath. Dean’s jaw is tight, his teeth obviously clenched, and his eyes hard from years of abuse. Castiel wants to rush forward, to hug him, to tell him everything’s going to be okay, that he’s safe now, that  _Sam_  is safe now. The amount of passion he has for Dean makes him stop mid-step, and Missouri notices, and gives him a sharp look before a look of realization smooths the lines on her forehead. Castiel blushes and listens as Missouri gives them her welcoming speech, and tries his hardest not to stare at the elder Winchester.

When Missouri leaves Castiel to show Dean and Sam their room, she gives him a Look, that quite plainly says “don’t try anything”. Castiel finds this the hardest thing Missouri has ever asked of him.

“How long have you been here?” Sam asks, and Castiel gestures for them to follow him.

“Since I was five. I’m seventeen now,” he adds. “Missouri is the best thing that ever happened to me.” His words are truthful, his human age, and his affection to Missouri. But when he catches Dean’s eye, he wants to tell him the truth, tell him how he was an angel once, thousands of years old, how he fell to earth and how Missouri sensed the grace that Castiel emanated, how she took him in and gave him love, a home, a family. But he stays silent. Dean doesn’t say a word, but nods his head in thanks as Castiel shows them to their room, two beds and a dresser for them to share. Sam thanks him, a smile looking misplaced on his face, and Dean closes the door, leaving Castiel alone and feeling much as he did 14 years ago when he fell to the earth.

Dean doesn’t grace his presence in the dining hall for nearly two weeks, although Sam comes every night. Castiel notices how the smile seems to grow accustomed to Sam’s face, sees the spark of joy begin to shine in his eyes, and he keeps close to the boy at all time, answering his questions with absolute certainty. Sam rarely leaves Castiel’s side when he’s not with Dean, becoming one of Castiel’s closest brothers in the orphanage.

“How do you know so much stuff, Castiel?” Sam asks once, while they’re playing chess. Castiel makes a disapproving sound as Sam makes a move, and Sam tries to hide his smile as he looks closer, trying to figure out the best move he can make. Castiel won’t let him make the wrong move.

“I have a very extensive knowledge of all things,” Castiel says, and when Sam’s hand darts to his rook, Castiel hums in approval. Sam smiles, all teeth and dimples, and makes his move.

“That’s putting it lightly, dude. You’re like an entire series of encyclopedias.” Sam says, and Castiel makes his move, watching as Sam’s eyes spark with understanding. He makes his move so quickly Castiel nearly applauds, but he manages to keep his face straight.

“I’m a fallen angel, centuries upon centuries of years old, and I know the answer to possibly everything you have a question to,” Castiel says seriously, and Sam laughs out loud.

“C’mon, Cas, be serious,” Sam says, and Castiel smiles and makes his move on the chessboard. Sam’s eyes shine in excitement as he makes his final move. “Checkmate!” He yells, and Castiel chuckles. When he looks past Sam, he sees Dean standing in the doorway, a fond look aimed at he and Sam. When Dean notices Castiel staring back, like a switch, he loses all emotion in his face and walks away, leaving Castiel with a confusing feeling in his chest.

“You like this boy, simple as that,” Missouri says later, when Castiel asks what’s happening. He chokes on the information, his heart fluttering. Missouri looks up, a smile on her face, and Castiel sits down across from her.

“What do I do?” He asks, and Missouri sighs.

“Baby, I’m not givin’ you any ideas on what you’re supposed to do. You’re my son, and I love you, and I’ve watched you grow up, as much as it pains me to do so. When I look at you, I see that five-year-old boy I rescued off the streets, and there’s no way on God’s green earth that I’m going to help my baby lose his innocence.” She smirks, her eyebrows raised, and goes back to her paperwork. Castiel sits there for a moment, mulling over her words, and feeling an ache in his chest he’s not accustomed to either. He stands up, and walks over to his mother, wrapping his arms around her and placing a kiss on her soft cheek.

“I love you, mom,” he says softly, hugging her from behind, and Missouri’s hands reach up and grab his arms.

“I love you too, baby. Forever and always.”

 

About two months after Dean and Sam are taken in, Dean finally says his first words to Castiel.

“I’ve never seen my brother smile as much as he does lately,” he says, hands deep into his pockets, and it takes Castiel so off guard that he stands there, open-mouthed and speechless, watching as red tints Dean’s perfectly round ears.

“He’s a very smart boy,” Castiel says, snapping out of his trance, and Dean’s shoulders loosen, and a smile graces his face. Castiel watches as Dean’s whole body brightens, and feels his heart skip a beat. Dean is beautiful.

“Yeah, he’ll probably be a lawyer or some shit,” Dean says, chuckling, and Castiel smiles. “Smartest fuckin’ kid I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“You might want to watch your mouth around Missouri,” Castiel whispers conspiratorially, and Dean smiles wider, his green eyes bright.

“I’m Dean,” he says, extending his hand. “But you already knew that.” He looks embarrassed, a faint tint of pink coloring his cheeks, and Castiel grabs the boy’s hand and squeezes softly.

“Castiel,” he responds, smiling, and Dean glances at their hands before pulling away, looking down at the ground and scratching the back of his head.

“Yeah, I know, Sammy won’t shut up about you,” he laughs, and Castiel smiles. “Said you were an angel, that you even said so,” Dean says, and bites his lip before looking up at him. “Our mom always said angels were lookin’ over us. Guess it took a while to actually find you.” Dean says, and Castiel’s heart leaps to his throat. Dean looks as though he wishes he could gobble up his words, or die, or both, or make a run for it. Castiel grabs Dean’s wrist, and smiles nervously.

“Would you like to take a walk with me, Dean?” He says, and Dean relaxes against Castiel’s touch. He smiles, briefly, and nods.

“Okay, Cas.”

 

Their walks turn into a daily ritual, Dean nearly always talking about Sam, and Castiel listening aptly, enjoying the way Dean’s lips move when he says Castiel’s name. When they come back, Sam is nearly always waiting for them, a smirk on his face that makes Dean stop in his tracks, scratch the back of his head, mumble something, and run back to his room without another word. Sam smiles brightly at Castiel, and Castiel begins to think Sam knows something he doesn’t, and wonders what that could be.

They’re playing an intense chess game one day when Sam blurts out, “I think my brother likes you.” It takes Castiel so off guard that he sets his queen down on the board so hard that it scatters the rest of the pieces across the table, making Sam giggle and making Castiel’s ears redden.

“There’s no possible way you could know that for sure,” Castiel says, rearranging the pieces back to their original spots, and Sam just sits there smugly, his smirk irritating Castiel.

“And you like my brother,” Sam says, and Castiel sighs, exasperated.

“And what gave you that indication?” Castiel asks, giving Sam a Look, and Sam just smiles wider.

“You look at him like he’s the sun, and he looks at you like you’re the stars, and it’s so dumb, because you’re never looking at each other when you really  _look_ at each other.” Sam says, and Castiel sighs.

“The sun technically is a star,” Castiel deflects, and Sam groans.

“You guys are so pathetic. I should just lock you two in the bedroom and wait for you to talk it out.” Castiel gives Sam another sharp Look, and Sam shakes his head. Sam makes his move, declares his victory, and walks away, leaving Castiel submersed in his own thoughts.

When he knocks on Missouri’s office door that night, she looks up at him smiling.

“I’m not telling you,” she says, reading his mind. “Go ask him yourself.” Castiel groans, and Missouri chuckles, shaking her head.

“What ever happened to ‘you’re my baby’,” Castiel asks, giving his mother his best puppy eyes, and Missouri just looks up with an eye roll.

“You’re my child, and I love you, but I am  _not_  your cupid. Go find out yourself, baby.” She says, her words hard and demanding, and Castiel huffs.

“Cupids are real, you know. They walk around naked giving people hugs.” He says, making his mother laugh, and walks away as she shakes her head in amusement. As he walks back to his own bedroom, he runs into Dean, who shuffles uncomfortably.

“Hey, Cas.” Dean says, not making eye contact.

“Hello, Dean.” He replies, trying to keep his voice even. Dean smiles briefly, huffing a laugh, and straightens his posture.

“Wanna go for a walk with me?” He asks, and Castiel finds himself nodding without hesitation. They walk the streets of Kansas silently, the tension between them palpable.

“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” Castiel asks, and Dean’s head shoots up, eyes wide.

“God, no, Cas. You’re good man, you’re always… you’re always good.” Dean says. Castiel’s heart speeds up, and Castiel bites his lip.

“Sam talked to you today, didn’t he?” Castiel asks, and Dean chuckles nervously.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m assuming he talked to you then, too?” Dean says, and Castiel nods.

“I’m sorry he made those accusations,” Castiel says, feeling his heart stop in his chest, and Dean looks up with sad eyes. Dean stops in his tracks and just  _looks_  at Castiel, green eyes sad and shoulders slumped, and Castiel straightens. “Unless…” Castiel feels a smile tug on the corners of his lips. “Unless he was right?” Dean’s cheeks redden, and he shuffles.

“Was he right, Cas?” Dean asks softly, and Castiel’s heart melts.

“I hope so,” Castiel says, and Dean’s shocked eyes meet his, a smile spreading across his face. Castiel pulls Dean into the alleyway between Dean’s favorite bakery and the library, and Dean eagerly follows, wrestling his arm away from Cas’ grip and lacing his fingers through Cas’ instead. Castiel presses Dean against the brick bakery wall, and shares his first kiss with the only person he’s ever found romantically intriguing. When Dean sighs and kisses back, wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist, Cas knows this is his own personal heaven.


	19. Vampire AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since the first time he saw Dean, and smelled the sweet aroma of the purest blood he’s ever smelled, Castiel has never bitten into another human, never tasted the sweet, bitter, coppery liquid that makes him feel more alive than he has in centuries. He fell away from his pack, renounced all of his evil living.
> 
> He fell in love with a human, the greatest sin of a vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is shoRT sorry but enjoy!!!

Castiel watches Dean from afar, the sweet scent of the man’s blood tickling the inside of his nose, and making him hunger. But Castiel doesn’t feed on humans, not anymore. He feeds on deer, overpopulated, and sweet, easy to catch, easy to drain, and easy for officials to write off as illegal hunting.

Castiel supposes this is true.

But since the first time he saw Dean, and smelled the sweet aroma of the purest blood he’s ever smelled, Castiel has never bitten into another human, never tasted the sweet, bitter, coppery liquid that makes him feel more alive than he has in centuries. He fell away from his pack, renounced all of his evil living.

He fell in love with a human, the greatest sin of a vampire.

“I can feel you watching me,” Dean’s voice says, and even though it comes off strong, Castiel can hear the wavering, uncertain tone underneath. If Castiel weren’t in love with Dean, it would fill him with predatory glee, but Dean’s fear makes him sick.

“I’m sorry, I won’t hurt you,” Castiel says, coming out of the alleyway, hands up. Dean gives him a once over, and glares.

“You know I’m a hunter, right?” He asks, clearly noting Castiel’s vampire identity. It heats Castiel up with a fire he never knew was possible, and nods.

“I don’t feed on humans,” Castiel says, lowering his hands. Dean scoffs.

“I’ve heard that one before,” he says, pulling out a stake, and Castiel backs away. This is not how he wanted his first meeting with Dean to be. He’s in love with him, and the thought of dying at his beloved’s hand makes him fear in ways he’s never known he could fear again. Dean notices the fear, and lowers his weapon.

“You really aren’t like them, are you?” Dean asks, and Castiel shakes his head. “What’s your name, vamp?” Dean asks, and Castiel hesitates. Dean raises his weapon up by a fraction, and Castiel locks eyes with Dean.

“Angel,” he lies. Dean raises his eyebrows.

“What is this, Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” He asks, chuckling humorlessly. Castiel tilts his head.

“I don’t understand that reference,” he says, and Dean’s shoulders shake with laughter.

“Okay, Angel,” Dean says, containing himself. “Will you help me find the nest of vamps who’ve been preying on teenage girls?” He asks, and Castiel finds himself nodding.

“Of course, Dean.” He says, and Dean eyes him suspiciously.

“I never told you my name,” he says, coming towards Castiel with a heated rage. Castiel flattens himself against the brick wall behind him.

“I’ve been watching you,” Castiel says, finding Dean’s gaze and holding it. He’s only dreamt about being this close to Dean, and now that it’s happening, he can only hope Dean doesn’t take the opportunity to kill him.

“How do I know you’re not trying to kill me?” Dean hisses, and Castiel tilts his head.

“Because I love you,” Castiel says, and Dean’s eyes widen briefly, his mouth falling open. Castiel rakes his eyes selfishly over Dean’s features, risking his own life by reaching up and brushing his cold, lifeless thumb along the sharp line of Dean’s jaw. Dean’s breath is deliciously hot against his face, and Castiel thinks if Dean took this moment to his advantage and struck the stake through his heart, he’d be okay with that. Instead, Dean presses his body against Cas’ and Castiel revels at how warm and perfect Dean is against him.

“Show me your worth, Angel,” he whispers, voice hot against his skin, and Castiel closes his eyes and lets Dean’s words warm him from the inside out.

“Castiel,” he corrects. “My name is Castiel.”


	20. Magic Spell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he wakes up, he’s looking into the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen on a person in his life. He reaches up, touches soft skin, sees his thumb scrape over beautiful constellations of freckles, and smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh fluffy and tons of kisses!! enjoy!

Castiel, as always, is in the wrong place at the wrong time. He’d only come into the abandoned house to find pieces of thrown away building material for his newest sculpture project, and now he was watching horrified as two men lunge at a woman, who’s using some kind of telepathy to fling them against walls. Castiel wishes he could write this off as some kind of theater piece, but the blood is too real on the men’s faces, the cracking of bones too sickeningly realistic for it to be fake.

One of them notices the civilian pressed against the wall, and shouts for him to leave, but the woman is close, in his face, foreign words chanting in his face, a powder blue liquid being forced down his throat. The woman gasps suddenly, and falls, the knife stuck in her back, and the man with longer hair is patting his face, asking him if he’s okay. Castiel promptly passes out.

When he wakes up, he’s looking into the most beautiful green eyes he’s ever seen on a person in his life. He reaches up, touches soft skin, sees his thumb scrape over beautiful constellations of freckles, and smiles.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, and the man’s face gets hot under Castiel’s touch before he pulls away.

“I think he has a concussion,” the other man says, laughing, and Castiel watches the beautiful man punch the other one.

“What’s your name?” He says, not paying any attention to the other man, and Dean shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Dean,” he says, and Castiel has never heard a more beautiful name.

“Dean,” he repeats, and the other man coughs.

“You wanna tell us your name?” The one with long hair asks, and Castiel sits up, feeling the world spin around him.

“Castiel,” he says, pushing his palm to his forehead, and he looks around the room. It’s a shitty motel room, two beds, a television from the nineties, and the most god-awful green wallpaper he’s ever seen in his life.

“I’m Sam,” the man with the long hair says, and motions to the beautiful man. “And this is my brother, Dean.”

“Dean,” Castiel repeats, and Dean bites his lip.

“I think she did something to him,” Dean says to his brother, and Castiel stands up and walks over to him.

“I wanna paint you,” Castiel murmurs, brushing his fingers against Dean’s, and Sam coughs loudly.

“Yeah, I’m gonna see if there’s a cure for this. I’ll call Bobby, you keep loverboy out of trouble.” Dean makes a noise of protest, and Castiel moves closer to him, studying his face with unwavering focus.

“Dude, you’re freakin’ me out,” Dean says softly, and Castiel drags his finger down the red tinged part of Dean’s ear.

“You’re perfect,” Castiel says, and hears Dean’s soft intake of breath.

“Dude, stop,” Dean says, but Castiel can’t. He needs this man to know how amazing he is. He grabs Dean’s face, and Dean doesn’t protest, doesn’t move. He looks at Cas with sad eyes, clenching his jaw.

“You deserve the world, Dean,” Castiel says, stroking the pads of his thumbs along Dean’s cheekbones, and Dean jerks forward for an instant, as if he’s been punched in the gut. His eyes soften, and he unclenches his jaw, and lets Castiel’s eyes bore into him.

“You don’t even know me,” Dean says, and Castiel smiles.

“I feel as if I’ve known you my whole life,” Castiel says, dragging his thumb down Dean’s cheek. He traces Dean’s bottom lip with his calloused finger, and feels Dean tense up beneath his touch.

“Cas,” he whispers, and Castiel’s eyes dart up to meet Dean’s. They’re half-lidded, filled with lust, and Castiel leans in, enjoying how pliant Dean’s lips give against his as they touch, Dean hot and willing, grabbing onto Castiel’s coat lapels like he’s holding on for dear life. Castiel’s head stops feeling dizzy, and he pulls away as he realizes he’s kissing this man he’s never met before today.

He looks at Dean, disheveled, with spit-slicked lips and glazed over lust-blown eyes, and decides “fuck it”, and dives back in for more.

Dean is eager, his tongue darting against Cas’ lips, dragging a moan from Castiel’s throat, and Dean’s hands fist in his hair, gaining more leverage, twisting Cas’ head so he can deepen the kiss.

“So, Bobby says it’s the standard love potion, one kiss and—“ Sam’s voice stops, and he lets out a yelp. Castiel and Dean pull away, clothes shifted and faces red from their heated kiss, and Sam backs out of the room, yelling “I guess you figured it out!”

Castiel smiles against Dean’s lips as the man drags him in for more, and decides that maybe he wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong time this time.


	21. Superhero AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day he found out about his father’s murder, he changed his life.
> 
> He became The Angel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is my favorite one so far!!! enjoy!!!

When Castiel was younger, he dreamt of flying. His father, a notorious business man of a prestigious airline company, always referred to Castiel as his little angel. His mother passed away giving birth to him, but his father always kept a positive attitude, and loved his son as if there were no other human alive. When Castiel’s father passed away, Castiel wanted to be as strong as his father had been, to move on with his life with the same amount of love and joy as he had before the fateful plane crash, but he spent his days drowning himself in whiskey and his own sorrow. He drove away his friends, his only sister, and nearly drove his father’s company into the ground.

Until he found out that his father had been murdered. The plane crash, which was classified a terrorist attack, was actually a planned attack on his father by a man his father had fired for being “too dangerous”. In the end, his father was right. That man was dangerous.

The day he found out about his father’s murder, he changed his life.

He became The Angel.

He devoted his life to making sure that dangerous people remained off of the streets of Lake Angelus, Michigan, flying across the skies in his mechanical wings crafted by his engineer, Dean Winchester.

He always assigned these classified projects to Dean, trusting the man’s loyalty and secrecy. Dean was a good man, who always wished Castiel well. Castiel was sure Dean knew his identity of The Angel, but he never brought it up, and never spoke a word of Castiel’s requests to anyone.

He admired Dean for that. He admired Dean a lot.

Dean had a passion for engineering, for building, among other things, such as his brother Sam. When Dean talked about Sam, it was as if all the bad things in the world disappeared from Dean’s life. His eyes brightened, his personality cheered, and a smile could never be wiped off of his face.

“The Angel saved my brother once,” Dean says carefully one day, not making eye contact. “From The Demon. He planned to bomb the law firm my brother worked in, and The Angel came in and shielded the bomb with his own body.” Dean looks up at Castiel, a sincere look in his eye. “I’ll never be able to properly thank him for that.”

Castiel fell in love with Dean that day, one of the many secrets he’s been forced to keep.

As the heir of his father’s business, Castiel must attend the meetings, and force himself to sit calmly as the acting CEO talks over the rest of Castiel’s esteemed colleagues. Fergus Crowley, as brilliant as he may be, is an insufferable prat. Castiel and Dean have a private conversation as Crowley makes a speech denouncing the lower workers of the company.

“That’s quite enough, Crowley.” Castiel says, shaking his head. “I’ve walked around every airport we have and all of our workers are excellent.” He catches Dean’s eye and smiles softly. “I think we’re done for today. Dean, do you mind?” He asks, and Dean nods professionally and follows Castiel into their private meeting place.

“Can you believe that guy?” Dean laughs, and Castiel shakes his head.

“My father had faith in Crowley for years,” Castiel says. “I can’t flat out fire him for being an assbutt.” Dean laughs at his choice of words, and Castiel does his best to keep his face straight.

“Assbutt!” Dean manages to choke out between gasps of laughter, and Castiel laughs along. When their laughter dims down, Castiel shies away from Dean’s amused gaze.

“I have another project for you,” Castiel says, and Dean hums.

“Another set of wings?” He asks, and Castiel looks up at him. Dean’s eyes are knowing, and Castiel has a hard time of looking away.

“No, actually. I was thinking more of… a body suit. Kevlar. Bulletproof. With detachable wings.” Castiel feels a smile spread across his face. Dean smiles softly.

“I hope you’re careful, Cas.” Dean says, his voice fond. Castiel looks up with a smile.

“That’s what I have you for, Dean.” He manages to make it out of the room without declaring his love, and goes back to his mansion, down into the basement where every news channel in Lake Angelus streams, where every police call is radioed in, where Castiel receives his signal from the police department.

It seems to be a slow night, Castiel notices, sipping on tea, as he watches the news report of a bunny waterskiing. It’s amusing, definitely, but not up his alley.

He hears his phone buzz, and looks as Dean’s name pops up on his phone. Castiel’s brow creases as he reaches for his phone in panic. Dean never calls him.

“Dean?” Castiel asks, voice panicked, and Dean’s voice screams in the background. The Demon speaks from Dean’s phone.

“If you don’t show up, your precious Winchester will be dropped off the top of the building,” his mangled robotic voice says, and Castiel feels in his heart where he knows The Demon will be. On the top of his own building, the highest in Lake Angelus. He wastes no time in getting there, soaring through the sky as fast as his suit will allow. Dean’s screams echo in his ears, and tears pinprick his eyes. If he fails Dean, he’ll never be able to live with himself.

As he thought, The Demon and Dean are on the top of Godspeed Airlines Headquarters. Dean’s being held over the edge, screaming Cas’ name, and Castiel has never feared anything more in his entire life.

“What do you want, Demon?” He asks, and The Demon laughs.

“To kill _you_!” He hisses, and drops Dean. Castiel jumps off the building after him, Dean’s horrified face the only thing he sees. He catches him without a problem, and lands safely on the ground. Castiel holds Dean to his chest a little too long, so happy that he got there with enough time to save him, and Dean’s arms wrap around him tight.

“It’s Crowley. Crowley’s The Demon.” Dean whispers, and Castiel pulls away.

“I put you in danger,” Castiel says, and Dean surges forward and plants his lips firmly on Castiel’s.

“Fuckin’ kill the guy, Cas.” He says, and Castiel feels a new meaning for this life he’s chosen take place in his mind. He will keep Dean safe at all costs. He kisses Dean once more and then flies back to the top of the building.

“Crowley.” Castiel says, and The Demon laughs.

“So you’ve finally figured it out,” he says, and presses a button, revealing his face. Castiel scowls and lunges forward, landing a punch on Crowley’s jaw.

“Fucking prick. I should have fired you years ago.”

“Your father already did fire me years ago!” Crowley spits out, red in the face, eyes blazing with anger, and Castiel feels a pit of nausea in his stomach.

“ _You_ killed my father,” Castiel says, and Crowley only laughs.

“And _now_ , my pet, I’m going to kill _you_!” Crowley lunges forward, and punches Castiel so hard in the chest he loses his breath. It knocks him to his back, and he looks up helplessly as Crowley begins to step on his ribcage.

“Aerodynamically built, but a bit lacking on the protective side,” Crowley says, snarling, and Castiel blinks back tears. This is why he asked Dean for a new suit. For protective purposes. Crowley brings his foot down hard, and cracks Castiel’s ribs. His eyes shut hard and he lets out a bloodcurdling scream. Dean’s face flashes behind Castiel’s eyelids, and he gathers all the strength he can, grabbing Crowley’s foot, and pulling it from under him. He sits up, and starts wailing on him, before grabbing him by his gaudy suit and dangling him over the building.

“Does your suit _fly_ , Crowley?” He asks, his teeth grinding together as he spits out his words. Crowley’s eyes flit with fear for a moment, and then he grins a devilish grin.

“You wouldn’t kill me, Angel.” He says, his tone mocking. “It’s against your ‘moral code’.”

“I think I can make an exception for my father’s _murderer_.” He says, and loosens his grip. Crowley sways in the air, and his eyes truly do show fear.

“You’ll never be able to live with yourself!” He bargains. Castiel snarls.

“I’ll deal with that later,” Castiel says, and goes to let go of Crowley when he hears Dean shout.

“Don’t, Cas.” He says. “Don’t kill him. Put him in jail, where he belongs.”

“He belongs in _hell_.” Castiel says, but he doesn’t drop him.

“Cas,” Dean’s voice pleads. “You’re better than him. You’re better than this.”

“Listen to your squirrel,” Crowley says, and Castiel glares at him.

“Don’t ever speak of Dean,” he says, and then he’s flying to the police station, dropping Crowley off, hands tied together, mouth gagged, and suit drained of its electronic power.

The news the next day reads “THE ANGEL SAVES ANGELUS”, a picture of a tied up Crowley above the article. Castiel doesn’t leave his house, not even for a meeting, feeling guilt over almost killing someone. There’s a knock on his door around midnight, and Castiel makes it out of his bed to answer, eyes wide when he sees Dean at the other side, holding a bag of what smells like Chinese food.

“You mind if I come in?” Dean asks, and Castiel ushers him in.

“You didn’t have to—“ Castiel starts, and Dean brushes him off.

“Cas. You saved my life.” Dean says, his ears tinted pink, and Castiel nods.

“You’re always saving mine, Dean.” He responds. They sit in silence, eating lo mien and purposely avoiding conversation. Dean slams his food on the table in front of him, and faces Castiel.

“You scare the shit out of me, Cas.” Dean says, and Castiel puts his food on the table, focusing on Dean.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’ll stay out of your life, I’ll find you a new job—“ Castiel’s cut off by Dean’s lips on his own.

“No, idiot. I’m afraid of losing you.” Dean says against his lips. “I—“ he cuts off, and Castiel presses his lips against Dean’s chastely.

“I love you, too, Dean.” He says, and Dean presses against him hard, kissing him rough and possessive. Castiel winces as Dean pushes too hard against his cracked ribs, and Dean pulls away, brow furrowed in concern.

“Broken ribs,” Castiel explains, and kisses the worry off of Dean’s face. “The reason for Kevlar.” He explains, and Dean nods, pressing his forehead against Castiel’s, sighing.

“This isn’t going to be easy, is it?” Dean asks, and Castiel hums.

“No, but usually things that are worth fighting for aren’t easy.” Castiel says, and captures Dean’s lips with his own. This relationship is dangerous, Castiel thinks, and Dean is his ultimate weakness, but he’s worth it. He’s worth everything.


	22. Online Relationship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean stares at his phone screen for ten minutes, trying to determine what Cas’ text means.
> 
> “I live toy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i totally disregarded the prompt because i've been in bed holding a water bottle to my face in pain so sorry this is so short!!!

Dean stares at his phone screen for ten minutes, trying to determine what Cas’ text means.

“I live toy.”

Was he watching Toy Story? Did he butt text him? And what do you even say back to “I live toy.” that doesn’t sound like you’ve been obsessing about the stupid text for way longer than needed?

“I love you.” Says the next text, and Dean rolls his eyes and calls his long-distance boyfriend.

“You are so useless with technology, dude.” Dean says, laughing when Cas picks up.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas’ voice says through the receiver, and Dean smiles.

“Hey, Cas.”


	23. Mythical Creature/Human AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s an egg. A nearly silver egg, blue tinted, and shiny where the sun flits on the surface. Dean sits with the thing on his lap, staring confusedly, and then it hits him.
> 
> This is a dragon egg. A dragon is inside of this egg. The last dragon in the whole world is sitting in his lap.
> 
> Fuck, his dad was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, humanoid dragon!Cas, and lots of fluff and wow this was so much longer than i anticipated lmao enjoy!!!

Dean steps lightly atop the fallen leaf-covered hilltop, careful to make as little noise as possible as he ascended to the decrepit cave behind wilted bushes. His father claims there used to be a volcano there, hundreds of years ago, a popular dragon’s nest in its day before the first band of dragon hunters wiped them out, praying to the gods to destroy the volcano and the dragons that plagued the lands.

Dean thinks this is was a bunch of horseshit.

But Dean’s father’s father’s father’s father, (“Dad, just say your great, great grandfather, jeez”), was among those who destroyed the last living dragons, and Dean took it upon himself to look around this “very historic memoriam of fallen hunters”, seeing if he can find any proof for himself that this did happen, and that his father isn’t just pulling his leg (or trying to guilt Dean into continuing their dragon hunter tales).

He’d told his father and brother he was going for a walk, and although his brother could so obviously see through him, his father brushed him off without a single word. Sam was more in tune with his father’s tales, reading the musty old books filled with ancient languages and tales about the dragons’ reign over the world until the hunters took care of them.

Dean’s just not convinced.

When he reaches the cave, he starts to wonder why this memoriam has been left so shabby, as if he’s been the first person in hundreds of years to come up and see if there is _any_ truth to these stories he’s heard from birth. It’s almost enough to make him walk away, because if there’s no care for the ‘memoriam’, then there really isn’t a ‘memoriam’ at all. Begrudgingly, he continues, kicking through the tall grass to find molten gold, or dragon scales, or even bones. He finds nothing, shockingly, but this doesn’t deter him from continuing into the cave.

The cave is bare, dirt ground scattered with stray leaves blown in by the wind, small, mossy walls cramping Dean in. He’s almost giddy with this information, knowing now he doesn’t have to pay any mind to his father’s ridiculous tall tales about dragons existing, because this so _obviously_ proves they don’t. He’s smiling smugly as he walks around the small cave, his fingertips scraping the moist walls, when he feels a dip, a secret little wall-hole, and his fingers skirt over a warm, smooth surface. His brow furrows as he lays his palm flat on the warmth, noting the oval-ish shape of the large object. He grabs the thing from either side (which is difficult, considering it’s nearly as large as his torso), and tries to maneuver the thing out of the cramped hole, jostling and twisting and cursing until it comes out, sending Dean flying to his ass with the thing landing unceremoniously on top of him.

It’s an egg. A nearly silver egg, blue tinted, and shiny where the sun flits on the surface. Dean sits with the thing on his lap, staring confusedly, and then it hits him.

This is a _dragon_ egg. A dragon is _inside_ of this egg. The last dragon in the whole world is sitting in his lap.

 _Fuck_ , his dad was right.

He swallows his pride and strokes his fingertips softly along the length of the egg, mindlessly, wondering what he should do now. Destroy it? Bring it back to his father? To the police?

He’s so caught up in his own thoughts he doesn’t realize the crackling in his ears isn’t the crinkling of the fall leaves scraping along the dying grass outside. He looks down at the egg, at his fingers, which are dancing softly along the cracking of the egg.

It’s _hatching_. Dean freaks out, holding his hands up in his air in surrender, his mouth agape and body frozen as he watches little scaled fingers pop through the egg’s surface. Its fingernails are clawed sharp, and so tiny, but otherwise, they look… human. He watches in morbid interest as the dragon breaks itself free from the egg, a messy mop of dark hair scattered around pointed tiny nubs that Dean supposes are horns, and little elf-like ears scaled like his fingers. The dragon is quiet as it opens its eyes, glowing blue, and looks right at Dean. Its small, pink lips turn upwards into a smile, and its small, sharp teeth shine even in the dark of the cave.

“Fuck me,” Dean says, staring at this humanoid dragon thing in his lap. The thing chirps and reaches up to him, clawed fingernails ripping through his favorite AC/DC shirt, and scratching his skin. Dean yelps, and the dragon thing makes an unhappy sound. He looks mournful, and upset, and Dean feels the need to comfort this baby dragon thing.

He can’t very well go to his dad, or brother, or the state, or, well, anyone. They’d kill this innocent little dragon boy thingy.

“Uh, hi.” Dean says. “I’m Dean.” The dragon boy tilts his head and chirps, a puff of smoke escaping from his mouth. Dean shouldn’t find that as cute as he does. “Do you…” Dean feels stupid even asking. “Do you have a name?”

“Kah!” The thing puffs, a spark of a flame bursting from its mouth. “Kah!” It hisses happily, blowing the smoke around him.

“Cas.” Dean says, and the dragon boy looks up to him happily, as if he’s answering to the name. “Cas?” The dragon boy chirps happily again.

In the span of his adventures, somehow, Dean becomes responsible for a baby dragon boy named Cas.

 

Excuses become harder to come up with as Dean sneaks off to take care of the dragon he’s responsible for. Cas is growing nearly two times faster than a normal baby, and Dean hunts deer for him to eat, making sure Cas knows never to leave the cave under any circumstances.

“It’s dangerous, Cas,” he explains, his eyes pleading, and the toddler-dragon nods in understanding. It’s much easier to take care of Cas than his own brother, who’s nearly fifteen and takes up more of Dean’s time being an insufferable know-it-all. The best parts of Dean’s days become the times where he’s sitting with Cas, watching him stumble around the cave, or in the dark forest after nightfall. His wingspan is nearly as long as Dean himself, black and scaled and radiating heat, which Dean becomes thankful for as the weather cools and the Kansas nights become intolerably cold.

Cas’ first real word is Dean, and Dean’s heart swells with pride.

 

Throughout the next five years, Dean watches as Cas catches up to his own age, 23. Cas becomes angry at the world, confined only to his cave, and only able to spread his wings and fly during the night under Dean’s careful watch. There are times when Cas wraps his massive wings around himself and ignores Dean for weeks, never speaking more than a word, but Dean knows Cas will always come around and forgive him. Cas understands Dean’s over-protective nature.

“This land used to be full of dragons, and they were all wiped away by bigoted assholes, Cas. I won’t let you die too. Not on my watch.” Dean explains every time Cas gets into one of his moods.

“It’s not your fault that bad things happen, Dean.” Cas tells him once, and Dean’s heart breaks at the sincerity of his words. Dean knows his fondness for Cas has grown exponentially, surpassing the need to protect him and grown into something dangerously close to love. He isn’t ready to face those feelings, not with the risk of Cas being found. Dean doesn’t allow himself to love Cas more than to protect him at all costs. It wouldn’t be fair to Cas.

Dean brings Cas books upon books upon books, all read in an inconceivably short time, until one day, Dean brings one of his father’s old history books, which describes in vivid detail how the dragons were wiped out.

Cas doesn’t speak to him for the longest time after reading that book, doesn’t acknowledge Dean’s existence, doesn’t look away from the hole in the wall where Dean found his egg all those years ago. Dean can’t even blame him.

“I’m not a dragon.” Cas says out of the blue one day, which jerks Dean to attention. His brows furrow in confusion before Cas continues. “I’m not human either. The illustrations in the books, I don’t resemble them.”

“They are old books, Cas,” Dean argues, but Cas shakes his head.

“I’m a monster, Dean. I’m a combination of the two most monstrous creatures on this earth.” It breaks Dean’s heart more than he can say when Cas’ blue eyes dim. They haven’t been as bright as the day he was born in years. Dean feels at fault for ever hatching him, for locking him away, for keeping him secret.

“They’d kill you if they knew,” Dean says, trying to blink away tears. Cas moves closer to him, wings dragging through the dirt as he scooches forward. Dean feels Cas familiar heat before his warm face is pressing into Dean’s shoulder.

“I love you, Dean,” Cas says, so softly Dean thinks he might have imagined it. Dean’s heart breaks, and a rebel tear falls to his cheek.

“I love you too, Cas,” Dean says, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of his head, and Dean feels Cas’ happy purr against his lips.

Dean begins to plan for Cas’ escape that day.

He searches online, and finds an underground site, a user named Charlie, who seems like a reputable ally. She says there’s a way to get Cas from Kansas to a town in Russia, where dragons are still alive. Cas doesn’t know he’s leaving until the day Dean brings Charlie, a red head with some curious Star Wars tattoos, to the cave.

“What is happening? Dean?” Cas panics, pressing himself along the side of the cave. Charlie shushes him down, and Dean rubs his fingers through Cas’ hair, and explains everything.

“You’ll be safe, you’ll be free. You’ll be able to _fly_ , Cas.” Dean says, but the disobedient tears stream down his face anyway. Cas shakes his head, and tears sizzle audibly as they stream down his face.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he says, and for the first time, Dean presses his own lips against Cas’.

“Cas, you gotta go, I love you, but you _gotta_ go.” Dean keeps repeating, again and again, his thumbs soothing small circles on the scales on the sides of Cas’ face. Cas’ eyes are dimmer than ever when they meet Dean’s pleading green eyes, and when he nods softly, Dean’s heart breaks all over again.

He swears he can hear Cas’ pained sobs as Charlie drives away with Cas tucked safely in the back of her van.

 

Dean falls into a depressive state as soon as he knows Cas is far out of Kansas. Charlie keeps in contact, tells Dean how well Cas is doing, how his eyes are starting to glow again, and Dean asks her to stop, that it’s too painful. Charlie only talks to him about Star Wars and Game of Thrones.

Sam starts to notice Dean’s behavior, and one day he refuses to leave Dean’s room until Dean tells him everything. So Dean does. Sam’s mad at first, and then upset, and then finally, he understands.

“You’re in love with him.” He says, and Dean’s pained eyes give him away. Sam buys him a one-way ticket to Russia, and tells him to get back to his freaky humanoid dragon lover.

He calls Charlie on the way to the airport, asks her to keep this secret from Cas, and she meets him at the Russian airport, Russian translation books as a welcome gift.

He watches from Charlie’s van and seeks Cas out. He sees familiar black wings, tinted blue scales in the sun, his massive wingspan impressive even from where he’s sitting. The dragons around him vary in size, and Dean notes that Cas isn’t the only dragon-human hybrid. Dean’s heart drums wildly in his chest as he makes his way to where Cas is flying overhead, and watches in awe as Cas flies, his eyes closed, blissful, his face free from all sad lines that plagued Dean’s thoughts while he was forced to live in Kansas.

Cas’ eyes shoot open, and his wings still, and bright, glowing eyes land on Dean. Dean gives a little half-wave, only now realizing that maybe Cas doesn’t _want_ him here, when suddenly, a happy screech echoes through the sky, and Cas is diving down, landing, and running towards Dean. He wraps his scaly arms around Dean, and his wings follow shortly, and Dean remembers this heat, now, remembers how safe it made him feel.

“I missed you,” Cas says into the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean wraps his arms tightly around his dragon and feels a real smile widen onto his face for the first time in a long time.

“Missed you too, Cas”


	24. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In hindsight, Dean should have expected Cas to be into Christmas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not even christmas but -- here ya go super fluffy enjoy!!

In hindsight, Dean should have expected Cas to be into Christmas.

When Sam mentions two weeks before Christmas that Christmas is _coming_ , Dean merely shrugs it off, but Cas snaps into action, asking the brothers if they can get a tree, if they can exchange presents, have eggnog, the whole shebang. Dean is initially against it, holidays not being the most pleasant of memories in the Winchester home, but Sam and Cas’ puppy dog eyes, along with “But, Dean, it’s my first Christmas”, brings him in, even if he would be scowling and crossing his arms the whole time.

They go all out with the tree, getting the largest one Cas is sure the impala can handle, (“Like you even get a say, Cas, it’s not your goddamned car”), but of course, Dean acquiesces, and even goes so far as to buy the bottle of fake snow to spray on the damn thing. Sam teases him for getting soft, but Cas’ small, grateful smile is enough to know he’d done well.

They decorate it together, even managing to get Kevin out of his room and into the spirit, wrapping tinsel around his neck like a boa and trying to get him to recite Home Alone quotes. Cas smiles the whole night, especially when Dean suggests he put the star at the top of the tree. Dean spends the rest of the night ignoring how Cas’ smile makes his stomach do backflips.

On Christmas Eve’s Eve, a celebration because Cas says so, they put lights up around the bunker, and Sam and Kevin conspire together to hang up mistletoe in secret places. Cas ends up kissing both Sam and Kevin that night, fully enjoying the entire Christmas experience. Dean can’t help but to acknowledge the pit in his stomach that won’t go away after seeing the ex-angel lock lips with his brothers.

On Christmas Eve, they make eggnog, and unbeknownst to Sam, Dean, and Cas, Kevin pours in whiskey, rum, and vodka through the mixture throughout the night, efficiently getting the four of them Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition. Rudolph is a lot funnier drunk than sober, Dean realizes, his head spinning with visions of Clarice and Cas all mixed up in one. At one point, he stumbles into the kitchen to pour himself and Cas glasses of water, and finds himself staring up at a mistletoe above the sink. He drunkenly decides to climb on top of the sink to dispose of these troublemaking decorations, and manages to fall into the sink, tap still running, and soaking his lower body. He can’t even move to get out of the line of water, so he just sits there and laughs, harder even, when Cas walks in and doubles over at the sight of Dean in the sink.

“What happened?” Cas slurs, wobbling over to the sink, and Dean tries to tell him to stop, that there’s mistletoe, but his words come out jumbled and wrong, and Cas’ sweatpants hang low on his hips, revealing sharp jutted bones and delicious skin that Dean so desperately aches to lick, and when Cas finally sees the mistletoe, he ignores it and helps Dean anyway, turning off the tap, and pulling him out of the sink, dripping wet. Dean’s face heats up as he realizes how he must look, and how Cas is staring at him, like he’s worthy and loved and beautiful. Cas moves in and kisses Dean, slow, and soft, and perfect, and Dean’s fingers find Cas’, and he finds he couldn’t care less about his dripping pants or the dizzying effects of the eggnog.

When Cas kisses him, he doesn’t care about anything.

In hindsight, Dean should’ve known that Cas would make Christmas better.


	25. High School AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> High school is literally hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay soooo homophobic slurs warning, drug usage warning, ummmm punk!dean and jock!cas enjoy!!

High school is literally hell. It doesn’t matter how punk rock is changing the world, when Dean styles his hair into a fauxhawk and dyes it colors that describes how he feels on the inside, pierces his nose, his ears, his nipples, smudges black under his eyelids and declares a big “Fuck You” to the rest of the world, he still feels the panic of being an outsider, the snickers of the judgmental Kansas students as they give him dirty looks. It doesn’t matter that he has Charlie, a red-haired pistol with her leather-clad girlfriend, Dorothy, and Garth, who doesn’t even need makeup to achieve the look of death on his skinny little body, he feels the eyes drag on him, as if he’s the only one in the room with any semblance of punk rock in him.

He acts like he doesn’t care, and to an extent, he doesn’t. Especially when he’s strumming on his guitar and Charlie’s belting out lyrics to some song she’s making up as they play in her shitty garage, Garth on drums, beating the hell out of them, and Dorothy taking a drag of her cigarette as she pushes some keyboard keys without any real attempt of making a tune.

If there’s one place in the world he feels totally himself, it’s in Charlie’s shitty, shag rugged dirty garage with his closest friends.

But high school is still hell.

The football team, as sucky as they are, still reign supreme in their cliqued out school. Dorothy calls them sheep, and to an extent, Dean has to agree. They’re idiotic, rude, and barbaric, always screaming and chest bumping, like they’re popping steroids every day. The running back is the only one Dean hasn’t punched in the face, a kid named Castiel, with high cheekbones, bright blue eyes, and a mop of crazy dark sex hair.

Dean might be a little bit in love with the guy. Cas looks at him, yeah, but unlike the other kids, it’s not judgmental or disgusted. Cas looks at him like Dean’s a puzzle he’d really like to solve.

But Dean can’t get close to Cas without one of the meatheads picking a fight with him, and he’s never one to back down from school royalty. The bruises and cuts from fights gives him that extra oomph of feeling alive, the blood rushing through his veins and giving him an adrenaline rush that lasts forever.

After getting socked in the face a couple of times, Dean always turns to Cas, whose fists are always clenched at his side, his mouth a tight line, and his jaw muscles twitching.

If it angers him so much, Dean doesn’t see why he doesn’t just butt in and save him.

Sometimes, Cas is the only reason Dean avoids the football team.

 

One day, after a jam session at Charlie’s garage, Dean walks home, flicking his pocketknife in a way that says to the world “don’t fuckin’ mess with me”. It’s the only way he can get home without getting into a scuffle with one of the wonderful people he’s grown up with. He’s humming to himself, guitar in its bag draped over his shoulder, when he feels a tap on his shoulder.

He turns around, knife pointed in warning, and immediately pockets it once he sees Cas’ blue eyes widened in horror.

“Sorry, man. Can’t be too careful.” Dean says, and Cas nods.

“How are you?” Cas asks, his voice gravelly and deep, and Dean shrugs.

“Six more weeks of high school, and I’m pretty sure straight B’s calculates to graduating,” Dean says. “I’m fuckin’ great.” Cas hums in response, his hands fisted in the pockets of his letterman’s jacket.

“I’m feeling rebellious.” Cas says, his voice deadpanned as usual, and Dean barks a laugh. Cas’ eyes narrow, and he defensively says, “I’m serious!” before Dean can calm down.

“Yeah, I know you’re serious, that’s why I’m laughing.” Dean says. “What do you wanna do? Burn down the school?” Dean gives that a tiny bit of thought. “Well, actually that’s not—“

“I want to get high.” Cas says, interrupting him, and Dean scoffs.

“You’ll regret that, Cas. Football’s pretty strict about all that drug usage.” Cas rolls his eyes.

“I don’t want to do football anymore, Dean. I never have. I’m thinking… I can ruin my chances for continuing in college if I fail the drug test.” Dean shakes his head.

“Too chicken to tell your ‘rents that you don’t want to play with balls anymore?” Dean asks, and rolls his eyes before he walks away.

“You don’t understand,” Cas says as he jogs to catch up to him.

“I think I do understand.” Dean says, tired of taking shit. “Every day, I wake up, I look at myself in the mirror, and I think ‘fuck, I’m awesome’. I love my purple hair, love the piercings, love the shitty shirts with the shitty dumb phrases that get me sent to the principal’s office. I love it. I get downstairs, see my father’s disapproval, I start to doubt myself. My brother, thumbs up from him. He gets me, and that’s awesome. I leave the house feeling pretty fuckin’ good.” Cas’ eyes are painfully sad as he watches Dean talk. “I get to school, all those people staring at me, and I start to think ‘maybe I’m not awesome’. Those meatheads you hang around with, the names they call me, they’re all true. ‘Fag’, ‘druggie’, whatever. I get it. I like to take it up the ass when I’m high as a kite, and that doesn’t bother me, but for some reason, Cas, for some _reason_ , when I see you starin’ at me while these assholes wail on me, that’s when it hurts the most. ‘Cause I can tell you don’t like it, the way they treat me, but you just sit back, because that’s what you know. You’re a coward.”

Cas reels back as if he’s been slapped, and Dean clenches his jaw before he continues.

“I’m not gonna be your reason to get out of doin’ something _you_ don’t like. I’m not gonna be your bad influence or whatever. ‘Poor Cas, if only he didn’t hang out with that _Dean_ , he’d be playin’ football in the NFL by now’. No, Cas. Go fuck yourself and your petty rebellious streak.”

Dean walks away feeling lighter somehow, but his heart feels wrong. He wipes his mouth with his hand, and walks home, trying to get the image of Cas’ hurt eyes out of his mind.

 

Dean has no trouble avoiding the football team now. Whenever he sees a letterman’s jacket, he manages to steer clear of the assholes. He doesn’t even try to make eye contact with the one he thought was different.

The remaining weeks of their senior year pass slowly, and one afternoon when Dean hits the library to return an overdue book, he runs into a couple of guys from the football team. Literally. They push him outside, into the hallway, and Dean honestly doesn’t have time for these guys. He literally doesn’t care anymore.

“C’mon, fellas. It’s the last week of school. Let me through.” Dean says, waving his book.

“Always knew ya were a pussy, Losechester,” Uriel says, laughing. Dean groans.

“God, now I have to punch you for that lame ass pun,” Dean says, and lands his fist right on Uriel’s jaw. His cronies start wailing on him, punches in his gut as Uriel reels back from the punch Dean swung, and Dean tries desperately to keep himself upright and conscious as they beat the living shit out of him.

“Get off of him!” A voice yells, and even though Dean’s nearly concussed, he can tell it’s Cas who’s stepping in, who’s pulling him away and who’s strong arm is holding him up.

“What, Novak, you fuckin’ the homo too?” One of the idiots laughs, and Dean feels Cas tense up. Dean thinks for a moment that Cas is gonna let him go, and cower back and leave Dean to his own demise, but his clutch tightens around Dean instead.

“You will not touch him.” Cas practically growls, and if Dean weren’t two seconds away from passing out, he know he’d be turned on. The meatheads scoff and walk away, ragging on the ‘homos’, and Cas adjusts his grip on Dean and focuses on getting him to the nurse’s office.

“They’re all gonna start calling you a homo now too,” Dean says, and Cas shrugs.

“They aren’t wrong about that,” Cas says, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on Dean’s arm. “I told my parents, too. That I was done with football.” Dean scoffs.

“How’d they take that?” Dean asks, grabbing on to Cas’ letterman jacket. Cas hums in amusement.

“About as well as they took it when I told them I was gay, too,” Cas laughs. Things go eerily quiet between them, and then Cas speaks again. “You were right, Dean. About everything. I was too afraid to face things on my own. Thanks to you everything can be better.” Cas says, softly in his ear. Dean tries to smile, but from Cas’ worried face, he assumes he fails.

“You still wanna get high, Cas?” He asks, laughing. Cas chuckles lowly.

“What was the phrase you said… you like to ‘take it up the ass when you’re high as a kite’?” Dean feels his ears redden. “I think I’d like to see that for myself.”


	26. Elevator Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elevator rides had never been particularly interesting to Dean. Not until today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Dean Smith fic as well hehehe enjoy!

Elevator rides had never been particularly interesting to Dean. Not until today. Usually the 30 second ride was spent sipping his coffee and trying not to make eye contact with any of his neighbors before heading out to work, but today, he caught the gaze of someone with the most beautiful blue eyes, and a mess of dark hair that made them pop. If Dean ever needed confirmation that he was bisexual, this was it.

“Going down?” The man asks, his voice sounding as if his throat’s just been fucked properly, and Dean loses all knowledge of the human language as his mind short circuits and his face heats up at the implication of oral sex. The man chuckles and motions his head towards the elevator door. “To the ground floor?” He asks again, and Dean huffs an embarrassed laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean manages to choke out, cursing himself internally for making himself look foolish in front of the hottest guy in the planet. The man smirks, and presses the button, and leans against the wall next to Dean, smelling not unlike he’s been up to some physical activity. Dean wonders if he’s got a significant other in this apartment building, but keeps his questions to himself.

“I’ve just moved in,” the man answers his question, and Dean looks over at him.

“Oh yeah?” Dean says. “Welcome to the building, uh—“

“Cas,” the man supplies, smiling, and offering his hand. Dean takes it and revels in the man’s rough grip on his hands. He wonders what they’d feel like spreading him apart, gripping at his ass and— “What’s your name?” The guy asks, sufficiently knocking Dean out of his dirty daydream.

“Dean,” he replies, feeling his ears redden. “Smith.”

“You a health buff, Dean Smith?” Cas asks, nodding to Dean’s green smoothie. Dean feels himself blushing again, and this shit is never ending. How is he getting so flustered over one guy?

“Yeah, trying to get rid of some pudge,” Dean says, and immediately wants to reach for the words and cram them down his throat. This guy doesn’t care about Dean’s self-consciousness about his stomach. Cas gives him a once over, raking his eyes selfishly over Dean’s body, and Dean feels himself warm up from Cas’ attention.

“You look pretty fit to me, Dean.” He says, winking, and then the elevator doors open, and they’re both headed for the door.

“It was nice to meet you,” Dean says, as they leave their apartment building, and Cas smiles.

“It was nice to meet you as well, Dean.” Cas says. He turns to walk away, and then thinks better, and turns around. “If you ever want some late night workouts, just let me know. Room 34C.” Cas winks before darting away, leaving Dean very red-faced and very excited to begin his late-night rendez-vous with Cas.


	27. Body Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is talking, he knows his brother, but he’s looking at Cas. This is Cas, angel of the Lord, but Dean’s in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i can't believe i made this smut -- enjoy!!

It’s entirely eerie for Sam to see Dean’s personality come through Castiel’s body. But that’s what’s happening. Dean is talking, he knows his brother, but he’s looking at Cas. This is Cas, angel of the Lord, but Dean’s in there. It’s enough to make anyone’s head spin.

“What the fuck’s your issue, Sam?” Dean says, and Sam cocks his head.

“Have you not? Looked… in the mirror?” Sam asks, trying to prepare his brother as gently as possible. Dean, Cas… _his brother_ rolls his eyes, and walks to the mirror like he’s about to see his face with a blue tint or his hair a different color, but when he stands in front of the mirror, all he does is laugh.

“Good prank, Sam.” He says. “You even got Cas in on it.”

“Dean, no. I didn’t. Look in the mirror. You’re Cas. Which means —“ Dean is gasping, and touching Cas’ face – his face, whatever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck —“ Dean keeps repeating, and Sam shakes his head.

“It’s alright, I’ll call Bobby, we’ll figure it out.” Sam tries to talk him down off the ledge.

“Oh, God, Sam.” Dean sits down with his fists grabbing Cas’… his hair, before he realizes what he’s doing and looks down at his hands.

“What?” Sam asks, and Dean looks up at him with horrified eyes.

“I touched Cas’ _cock_!” He nearly shrieks, and Sam bites down so hard on his lip he tastes blood.

“Hey, um, Cas?” Sam prays, laughing a little. “Could you please come down here and, uh, help us out? Dean is freaking out and –“ Sam feels the wind from Cas’ wings muss his hair, and he turns around to see his brother’s face emotionless. It’s such a twist from the norm that Sam is momently stunned, until Cas looks over at Dean and his eyes widen by a fraction, and his head tilts. He looks down at his own hands and his mouth falls open.

“This is not possible,” Cas says, and Sam nods.

“Yeah, I think it is,” Sam says. “Because it’s happening.” Cas’ jaw clenches and he walks over to Dean, and this is all so weird that Sam just sits down on the table behind him and watches as Cas looks at Dean. This is normal.

“I’m one handsome son of a gun, Sammy,” Dean says, averting his attention from Cas back to his brother, and Sam can only roll his eyes.

“I’m handsome as well, I believe.” Cas agrees, and reaches forward to smooth down Dean’s… his hair. Dean stills as Cas touches him, and Sam is so grotesquely weirded out that he might actually have to sit down with a therapist after they get this all sorted out.

“I like the sex hair,” Dean says after a minute, and Cas’ lips quirk into a smile, and he musses up the hair again. Dean smiles, and looks down at his lap, and Sam rolls his eyes. Even when their bodies are swapped, they’re still grossly in love and so completely blind about it.

“I bet this is a spell,” Sam says, and Cas straightens, and nods. Dean leans back in the chair, slouching in a way that looks so awkward in Cas’ body. “I’m gonna go look up some stuff.” Sam says, and they both nod as he walks out of the motel room and leaves them to whatever they do when he’s not around.

 

“It was… the kiss, wasn’t it?” Dean says to Cas once Sam leaves, and Cas nods a small thing, and looks over to look at him.

“It’s very possible,” Cas says, and Dean’s kinda creeped out about how much it turns him on to have Cas inside of his body. He shuts his eyes for a second and tries to rephrase that in his own mind, but it takes form as a visual, and _oh_ , how good would it be to have Cas _inside_ of him?

“Should we kiss again?” Dean asks, knocking himself out of his own daydream, and Cas hums.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Cas’ lips turn upwards into a smile, and Dean knows that this probably won’t work, but hell, he’ll get to kiss Cas again.

“Wait.” Dean says, chuckling. “I may have to prepare myself. I’m about to kiss me.” He says and Cas shakes his head.

“You’re ridiculous. Would it really be so different to kiss as different bodies?” He asks, and Dean shrugs.

“One way to find out,” he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively, and Cas walks over to him, and spreads his legs to fit himself between them, sinking to his knees and thoroughly turning Dean on.

“Fuck, Cas,” he says, scraping his fingers through his own hair. It’s fucked up beyond belief how turned on he is at seeing his own face, his own body, down on his knees before him, eyes so full of love and worship. “Is it fucked up I kinda want to watch you in my body suck your cock?” He chuckles. Cas’ eyes darken.

“Would it please you, Dean?” He asks, and _fuck_ , yes it would. Who else would turn down this opportunity? Cas palms Dean’s erection through his trousers, and Dean moans and arches up into the touch. Cas’ hands masterfully pull down the pants, and white, flimsy boxers, and Dean watches Cas’ cock spring out, hard and thick. It makes his own mouth water. He watches as Cas kisses down his cock, and Dean’s transfixed on how blissful his own face looks worshipping cock. Cas’ eyes meet Dean’s as Cas’ mouth wraps around the head of his cock, and moves his tongue in sinful circles along the backside of it. Dean can’t look away as he watches his own mouth swallow his cock down to the base, marvels at how good he looks with a cock fucking his throat. Maybe it’s all Cas that makes this so hot, but Dean doesn’t care. Cas starts bobbing his head, and _God_ , yes, there’s a heat curling in his stomach, he can feel his balls tighten, and Cas does a flick of his tongue on every bob up, right along the tip of his cock, and once he sinks down, nearly swallowing around his cock, Dean cries out Cas’ name and comes, feeling Cas drink him down and clean him up.

He pulls Cas up and kisses him, chases the taste of Cas’ come out of his own mouth, and moans into their heated kiss.

“That was so fucked up,” Dean says, laughing, and Cas smiles against his lips.

“You have a very good gag reflex,” Cas says simply, and Dean moans against him again.

“God, Cas, when we get into our own bodies,” Dean says between kisses. “I want you to fuck me. I want your cock to be buried inside of me, and I want to feel you for _days_.” Cas’ kisses are rougher, teeth biting his lips and fingertips digging into his shoulders.

“Yes, Dean. Everything for you.” Cas says, and Dean moans again, because Cas is so _good_ , so loving, and his voice –

His voice.

He pulls away from Cas, and although he’s still the one sitting in the chair, he’s not looking down at his own face kneeling in front of him. Cas’ face is looking up at him, eyes still blown large from lust, his hair mussed and his mouth spit-slicked and red.

“What happened?” He asks, and Cas stands up.

“I have no idea.” He answers truthfully, and Dean shakes his head.

 

Sam comes back to the motel room later and finds Dean and Cas wrapped up in each other on one of the beds, Cas watching Dean’s sleeping figure.

“Did you figure out what it was?” Cas asks, softly, and Sam shrugs.

“There was something about a kissing curse, but—“ Sam stops, and looks up at a red-faced Cas. “But it wears off after the second kiss, which means—“ Sam smiles his best little brother smug smile, and Cas pointedly looks away.

“That’s good to know,” Cas says, smiling and brushing his fingers over Dean’s bare shoulder. “I hope I have your blessing?” Cas asks, turning his attention back to Sam. It makes Sam’s heart warm unexpectedly, and he smiles.

“’Course, dude. You’re family.” Sam says, and grabs his bag from the bed. “But, I’m gonna go get a separate room, just in case, you know, anything unsavory happens.” Sam says, smirking. Cas smiles.

“That’s kind of you, Sam, but I think Dean has been worn out for the day.” Cas says with absolute certainty. Sam pales and shakes his head, groaning. Leave it to the oblivious angel of the Lord to be so candid about his sexual exploits with Dean.


	28. Genderswap AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Dean wakes up with a pair of breasts and a vagina, it’s still not the weirdest day of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really tired and i'm not even sure if this makes any sense... enjoy xox cisswap cw; unsavory names for breasts (i used tits like six times lmao) um.... i used he/him pronouns because their gender identity is still the same

When Dean wakes up with a pair of breasts and a vagina, it’s still not the weirdest day of his life. He’d actually enjoyed looking at himself in the mirror for once, his soft features, his soft, short hair framing his cheekbones. His lips just as plump, his nose just as straight, his eyes just as green (but eyelashes longer than he’s ever seen any eyelashes before). His body is slender, muscular, except for that fuckin’ pudge he can’t get off even his own masculine body. His breasts are small, and perky, and his nipples are just as sensitive as usual. Everything is the same, pretty much, except that he’s female.

He thinks he’s taking this change rather well.

Until he sees Sam.

Of course his brother’s been changed as well, shoulder length hair fitting a more feminine face, and no sideburns to be seen. But Sam’s tits are HUGE, and it’s just not fair. He’s the older brother, he should get the larger tits.

“I can’t believe you’re upset about _breast size_ , when we’ve just been transformed into women!” Sam says, which is easy for him to say, because his tits are bigger and of course he doesn’t feel like the universe is pitted against him. “Plus, they’re in the way,” Sam adjusts his breasts so he can sufficiently cross his arms over his chest. “If I had been born this way, I’d’ve gotten a breast reduction.” He says, petulant as always.

“So, should we call Cas?” Dean asks, sitting on the bed, resigned to his fate as a female, and Sam shrugs.

“May as well.” He says, and Dean clears his throat.

“Cas,” he says in his best impression of his own voice. “It’s Dean. Me and Sam need you, and it’s kind of an emergency—“ Dean hears the familiar flutter of wings and smiles up at Cas, who squints as he looks down at Dean’s newly feminized body.

“You look different,” Cas says, and boy, isn’t that the understatement of the year. Dean ends up giggling, fucking _giggling_ , and God, he is so grossed out at himself. “Is this a curse?” He asks, as if this is a normal thing that happens in normal people’s lives, and Sam shrugs.

“Could be.” Sam says, plopping down at the table. Cas stares at him longer, assessing Sam’s new body in a way that he didn’t with Dean’s. It almost makes Dean jealous. Almost.

“Hey, Cas, could you be any creepier staring at my brother like that?” Dean snaps, and Sam chuckles as he looks at Dean from across the room. Cas shuffles from one foot to the other, and turns to face Dean.

“I was only assessing Sam’s body—“ Cas starts, and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, I could tell.” He says, snippy, and Sam shakes his head.

“Don’t pay any attention to him, Cas, he’s jealous because I have bigger boobs.” He says, and Dean throws a pillow at his annoying little brother. He feels his face heat up as he looks back at Cas, who is looking at him exasperatedly as usual.

“Dean, perhaps we should start looking for a solution,” Cas says, and Dean bites his cheek to keep from yelling.

He’s not sure why it bothers him so much that Cas seems more into Sam than him, but it does. When Dean’s body is male, Cas is always in his personal business, so shouldn’t it be the same when he’s got a female body? He was checking out Sam, so it’s not a gender thing Cas has a problem with. Maybe Dean’s just an ugly chick. It makes him feel sick to think this way, and he can’t concentrate on reading up on genderswap curses when he wants to crawl into bed and cry.

He’s sure it’s Sam’s tits that are taking Cas away from him.

They’ve exhausted all their possibilities, read every curse that even comes close to their predicament, and yet, no way to get back to the bodies they were born in. If Gabriel around, Dean’d expect it was him, but—

“Hey, Cas, Gabriel wouldn’t happen to have any chance of being alive, would he?” Dean asks, and Cas sighs before shutting a book.

“Gabriel?” Castiel calls out, and SNAP, in pops Gabriel, sucking on a lollipop and looking far too pleased with himself.

“About time you dummies figured it out. I thought it’d empty an entire candy store before you considered the possibility it was me! Good job, Deano, and congrats on the fine lady you’ve grown up to be!” Gabriel winks at him, and despite himself, Dean smiles. Maybe he’s not an ugly chick after all. Castiel scowls at his brother, who rolls his eyes.

“Ah, come on, Cassie, I can’t hit on Dean? You’ve been eyeing up Miss Upper North America all day. Dean’s not cutting it for you anymore?” He gives a fake pout, and Dean wants to hug him for finally saying what he’s been holding in all day. Instead, he looks up at Cas, who is shaking his head.

“I’m merely confused as to why you’d given Sam large sized breasts when his frame suggests something more along the line of a Dean’s size.” Cas says, raising his eyebrows, and Gabriel laughs.

“Ahhh, you got me, bro.” Gabriel says, and ha! Dean smiles at his brother, who’s scowling and glaring at the archangel.

“I’m going to have to go to a chiropractor because of you!” Sam says, and Gabriel chuckles.

“What exactly do you want?” Dean asks, throwing his hands into the air. Gabriel shrugs.

“Just wanted to fuck with you. Keep you on your toes. Plus, it’s a killer way of making a grand back-to-life entrance,” he adds, winking. He snaps his fingers, and Dean notices immediately he’s back into his male body, and so is Sam.

“I’m gonna find a way to get you out of my life forever,” Sam says before storming off, and Gabriel laughs as he follows him out, jabbering about how cute this story will be when they have little Nephilim running around. Dean shakes his head and wipes his face before catching Cas’ gaze.

“You were jealous I was paying attention to Sam?” Cas asks, a confused head-tilt. Dean shrugs.

“Usually, you’re up in my space.” Dean says defensively. “I was confused.” Cas doesn’t buy it.

“Despite the walls you build up, Dean,” Cas says. “I can tell when I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry.” Cas says, and Dean shuffles in his seat.

“So you didn’t think I was an ugly chick?” He asks, and Cas shakes his head.

“Your soul is the most beautiful thing in the world to me, Dean.” He smiles, and reaches forward to lace his fingers through Dean’s. “Everything else is, what you would say… a la mode.” Dean can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

“You sayin’ I’m pie, Cas?” He says, and Cas merely nods. Dean doesn’t try to stop himself from pulling Cas close and pressing his lips against the angel’s softly. “Don’t hit on my brother anymore, huh?” Dean says, and Cas nods.

“His breasts were a ridiculous size.” Castiel shakes his head. “I was worried for his safety, and that of the tables if he rested them on it for too long.” Dean laughs so hard at that he doesn’t register that he’s kissing Cas again, a smile wide across his face, until there’s sarcastic clapping from their annoying brothers from the doorway. Dean doesn’t care. Cas is the pie of Dean’s life, too.


	29. Clothes Sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re cold, Dean. Just put on my overcoat.” Castiel says again, frustrated to no end at Dean’s eagerness to shrug off his attempt to keep him from getting frostbite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh this is so fluffy sorry

 “You’re cold, Dean. Just put on my overcoat.” Castiel says again, frustrated to no end at Dean’s eagerness to shrug off his attempt to keep him from getting frostbite. Cas’ ‘pimp-mobile’, as Dean calls it, ran out of gas, and although Cas’ stolen grace enabled him to keep his body temperature, it didn’t enable him to sprout wings and fly to the nearest gas station, so they decided to walk in the freezing cold to do so themselves. Dean rolls his eyes dramatically before shaking his head, and rubbing his arms to gain friction and heat to keep himself warm.

“I’m not puttin’ on your perv trench coat, dude,” Dean says, and Castiel stops midstep and waits for Dean to realize that he’s not walking beside him. When Dean finally notices, he turns around with a scowl on his face, his cheeks and nose pink from the cold.

“I’m not joining you until you put on my coat,” Castiel says, putting his foot down. Dean shivers as he contemplates Castiel’s threat, and finally, with another eye roll, he walks forward, extends his arm, and waits as Castiel pulls it off of himself and hands it over to him.

“It’s barely doing a thing against the wind,” Dean pouts, but Castiel can tell he’s much warmer than before. They walk in comfortable silence down the highway, Castiel staying close to Dean to try to radiate his body heat to Dean, and if Dean notices, he’s quiet about it.

“I, uh… wore this before, you know. When you—“ Dean cuts off. Castiel knows when; after Dean kept his coat in hopes that Castiel would come back after being drowned by the leviathan. He hadn’t realized Dean had worn his coat, so he turns his attention to the man beside him and raises his eyebrows, signaling Dean to continue. “I washed it, obviously… you know, to get rid of the blood and black goo and stuff.” Dean shrugs, and Castiel nods.

“And you wore it?” Castiel asks, hoping Dean will tell him more. Dean shrugs beside him, and says nothing for a moment.

“It just smelled like fabric softener. It smells different now.” Dean says, so soft Castiel struggles to hear him.

“I smell?” Castiel asks, and Dean chuckles before rubbing his brow.

“Well, yeah, but… you know, not like holy fire or like lightning or whatever angels smell like—“

“Angels, to my knowledge, have no scent—“

“You smell like… burgers and leather and musty old books.” Dean says, and Castiel can’t look away. “Kinda wish the coat smelled like this while you were…” Dean trails off again. “Woulda made things easier… or harder. I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Castiel says, a pang of hurt hurdling through his body. He hadn’t realized he had caused his friend so much pain.

“I mean, you died, man. And then purgatory?” Dean sounds angry and upset and hurt and it makes Castiel want to turn back time and make everything different, make things _right_.

“And then I died again,” Castiel says, trying to lighten the mood, but Dean just shakes his head.

“I wish you’d just be careful,” Dean says softly, and wraps the coat around himself tighter. He’s still shivering, and Castiel wraps his arm around the other man. “Cas, what’re you--?” Dean says, and tries to shove Castiel off, but his actions show no real attempt at trying to get Castiel’s arm off of him.

“You’re still cold.” Castiel says, and presses himself tight against Dean. He can feel Dean warm beside him, their shared heat mingling between every atom of shared contact. “I’m sorry.” Castiel says softly, and Dean squirms beside him.

“It’s alright, Cas,” he says, trying to brush Cas off again, but it doesn’t work.

“I will stay with you. For as long as you want. As long as you need me.” Castiel says, and Dean stills beside him, stopping in the middle of the highway to make Cas face him.

“You’re a dumb son of a bitch, you know that?” Dean laughs, humorlessly, and Castiel’s head tilts of its own accord.

“I’m sorry?” He says, and Dean looks at him intensely before surging in and pressing his lips hard against Castiel’s own. A burst of heat travels through Castiel’s body and he presses even harder, relishing at Dean’s soft intake of breath.

“I will always need you,” Dean says softly, and it’s almost more than Castiel can bear. “And you’ll always need me, especially because your taste in cars is horrible.” Dean laughs against his lips, and Castiel pulls away.

“I like my pimp-mobile.” He says defensively, and Dean drags him down the road.

“You also like me,” Dean says. “So I guess your taste isn’t all that bad.”

And Castiel has to agree with that.


	30. Zombie AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Dean’s wishing he had coffee to keep him awake, he sees movement of the non-dead kind in front of him. Some guy, donned in an oversized trench coat, just literally baiting himself for the lurkers about twenty yards in front of him, is stumbling forward, not paying any attention to his surroundings.
> 
> What the fuck is this guy thinking?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter!! and it's my birthday!!! enjoy!!! xox

When people started rising from the dead, biting people and infecting them – in short, when the zombie apocalypse started, Dean was glad for his years in the military. Taking after his father, he’d joined the Marines, and devoted his life to the United States Marine Corps; efficiently wiping out his personal life save his one night stands and his exceptional brother (and his wife Jess). He’d had no time to settle down, always aiming for more in the Corps, until he went into active duty, got shot in the leg, and was discharged honorably. All those years wasted, he’d thought, until dead things started walking around and attacking civilians.

Dean became useful once again, his years of training essential in the survival of his fellow man.

So naturally, of course he makes the perfect night-woods person. He has the most training, years of service behind him, he’s a good shot, stealthy, and deadly with a knife. He’d choose himself over anyone to be out here in the most dangerous spot at the most dangerous time of day; with pregnant Jess and his brother protecting her back at camp with some stragglers they’ve picked up along their travels to Kansas City; Garth, a skinny kid who impressed the hell out of Dean by being the dorkiest guy who could shoot headshots from any distance; Gabriel, a pain in the ass that served their group no purpose other than to annoy the shit out of everyone (and maybe, just _maybe_ , he has the best tactical schemes of anyone Dean has met in his military career); Charlie, who managed to keep them going by hijacking cars and finding ways to keep them armed with working flashlights made out of the most ridiculous items she could find; and Kevin, an honor student scared out of his wits (but badass in the face of true danger). Dean considers them family now, all of them loyal to their group and essential to everyone’s survival.

And for whatever reason, the zombies, biters, whatever the term was, never really did much more than lurk behind trees at night. Dean watches in horror as they attack passing deer, ripping it to shreds with their fingertips, hearing the bones of either the rotting dead people or the deer (he’d prefer not to know), and making sure none of them walked onto their camp. If Jess wasn’t about to pop, they wouldn’t have made camp this close to the woods, but she couldn’t go any farther (according to Sam).

Just when Dean’s wishing he had coffee to keep him awake, he sees movement of the non-dead kind in front of him. Some guy, donned in an oversized trench coat, just literally baiting himself for the lurkers about twenty yards in front of him, is stumbling forward, not paying _any_ attention to his surroundings.

What the fuck is this guy thinking?

Before he registers anything further, Dean springs into action, darting behind the guy and pulling him back by his coat, dodging a punch the guy throws at him as he swings around. Dean shoves him aside as the lurkers spring to life (ha!) and come forward to attack he and this _moron_. Dean plunges his knife deep into the skull of a smaller zombie, while simultaneously kicking a larger one beside him to the ground. The knife pulls out of the lifeless zom like butter and he pins the larger one to the ground and plunges the knife through his eye. Not the preferred option, but it still works. He pulls the knife out of the socket, and wipes the blood on the dead zom underneath him, and grunts as he stands up and faces the idiot whose life he just saved.

“What the hell was that, man?” He all but shouts in the middle of the quiet of the woods. The guy pulls himself to his feet and brushes the dirt from his coat. Dean’s gotta admit, the guy is easy on the eyes. He’s got a messy mop of dark hair, and a scraggly mess of scruff on his face to match. His eyes, although angry, are the most beautiful shade of blue Dean’s ever seen, and Dean’s willing to bet if the man’s lips weren’t pulled into a disgusted purse, they’d be delicious looking as well. “You almost died, man.” Dean says, exasperated, and the man’s shoulders sag.

“I should thank you for saving my life,” the man’s dark, gravelly voice says, and too fuckin’ bad it’s the apocalypse because Dean’d be sold at this point otherwise.

“Why don’t you have weapons? Why are you alone?” Dean asks, taking a step forward, and the man in front of him sighs.

“I have no idea what’s going on.” Dean guffaws at the man’s statement. “I just came out of a coma, I think.” He explains further. Dean is floored. Not only did this guy make it through a coma without being preyed upon by the undead, but he’s also made it from the hospital to these woods unscathed.

“How the fuck--?” Dean starts, and the guy shrugs.

“I’m either the luckiest or unluckiest man alive.” He says, and Dean lets out a laugh he hasn’t heard from himself in ages.

“I’m Dean,” he extends his hand forward, and the man takes it. “Welcome to this new shitty world we’re in—“ He waits for the man to introduce himself.

“Castiel. Cas. Novak. I was a doctor before.” He says, and squeezes Dean’s hand before letting his own drop at his side. “I guess technically I still am… but I doubt many patients come out of this with any humanity.” Dean’s huffing a laugh at the end of the guy’s rambling, but he’s more intrigued by Cas than he’s been in anyone since long before the undead starting being… well, undead.

“You have anyone, Cas?” He asks, because, that’s Dean’s job. He protects, he serves, he returns. Cas probably has a wife, a family, someone worried sick about him.

“A brother.” Cas says, and shrugs. “And a grumpy cat named Sebastian, but…” He trails off. “I went back to my house and…” This time, when he trails off, Dean doesn’t expect him to pick back up.

“Hopefully your brother’s okay,” Dean says, and Cas smiles humorlessly up at him.

“Amazingly, I think he was the one who barricaded my hospital room so I wasn’t attacked.” Cas says, and Dean smiles. This brother sounds like someone he could be friends with. Someone he could admire.

“What’s his name?” Dean asks, and Cas smiles lopsided and endearing.

“Gabriel,” he responds, and Dean feels himself light up with an absurd kind of joy.

 

Garth’s the one sitting in front of the group’s cars when Dean shows up with Cas.

“Howdy, Dean, bringin’ home more riffraff to take care of?” He asks, standing up and smiling from ear to ear. Nothing could ever bring this kid’s spirit down. Not even the zombie apocalypse.

“You could say that. Everyone else sleeping?” Dean asks, and Garth dutifully nods. “Stay here.” He barks at Cas, who stands at Garth’s side looking confused as ever. Dean does an obligatory two knocks at Gabe’s car door before opening it, nearly giddy with the news he’s about to deliver.

“Dean-ooooo.” Gabe’s sleepy voice groans softly.

“Get up, asshat. I have a surprise.” Dean says. Gabe rubs his eyes and yawns a smile.

“Zombie strippers? Aw, Dean. Never knew you cared so much.” Gabe says, and stretches as he maneuvers his way out of the car. Gabe’s eyes are nearly closed the whole time Dean drags him back to Cas and Garth, but once he catches sight of Cas’ shitty trench coat, his eyes widen and he awakens immediately.

“Gabe?” Cas breathes, a smile forming on his face, and Gabe lets out an excited holler.

“I fuckin’ knew you’d make it! You liked the note I left you, right? ‘Don’t Dead, Open Inside’?” Gabe rushes forward and wraps his arms around Cas, who returns the hug just as tight.

“You saved my life,” Cas says as he pulls away. Gabriel rolls his eyes.

“I always knew you’d make it, ol’ chap. I just greatened your chances a bit. Well, substantially if I’m being honest. I’m a fuckin’ genius; a savior. Just ask Dean-o over there.” He nods his head back at Dean, who’s watching with a small smile on his face.

“Thank you, Dean. For everything.” Cas says, so sincere it just about breaks what’s left of Dean’s heart. He brushes off the comment with a shrug and swings his gun over his shoulder.

“Luckiest sunovabitch alive.” Dean comments with a wink as he heads back to the woods.

 

Naturally, Cas becomes a permanent installment of their troupe, becoming fast friends with both Sam and Jess, who spend their time both peppering him with questions about childbirth and what could possibly cause an uprising of the dead. Sam finally asks Cas one day if he would be willing to deliver his and Jess’ baby, and when Cas says he’d be honored, so honest and sincere, Dean has to walk away and force himself not to think about how Cas’ heartfelt replies make his stomach do backflips.

Charlie and Kevin treat Cas as one of their own, as scholars, and they spend their time discussing ways to improve their way of survival until they get to the city. Their combined brains produce a way to make coffee and tea and heated water for bathing, and Dean has a hard time controlling the smile on his own face these days. Especially when Cas, armed with a side arm, brings him coffee during his night-woods shifts.

Garth, of course, likes everyone, but more so Cas, supplying Cas with an extra-big Garth trademarked goofy smile every time they pass each other.

Cas is family, Dean determines. Even when he knows family doesn’t make him feel the way he feels towards Cas.

 

Everyone is on pins and needles the night Jess finally goes into labor. Dean doesn’t want to miss out on his niece or nephew being born, but he doesn’t want to leave the woods unwatched and have an attack on a vulnerable crew of unawares. He’s torn by family and duty again, and slinks away into the dark of the woods, telling himself that Jess and Sam are in the safe, capable hands of Cas. From his post overlooking the lurkers in the woods, he can hear Jess’ pained screams and grunts, and Cas’ orders for her to “keep pushing, you’re doing _so_ well, Jess, just _keep pushing_ ”. He aches to be with his brother when he holds his first child for the first time, but instead, he’s making sure these undead assholes don’t get anywhere near the kid. In his frustration, he decides to kill some of them. The sound of his knife plunging into the skulls of three or four lurkers, and the feeling of his blood pumping through his body distract him as he hears the child’s first cry into this hellish world.

He’s wiping black, goopy blood from his hands when he hears a branch snap behind him. He turns around, knife poised to kill, and stops in his tracks when he sees Cas’ baby blues staring sadly back at him. His arm falls to his side and he gives a half-hearted smile.

“Kid okay?” He asks, and Cas nods.

“A boy. They’ve named him Patrick. After her father.” Cas says. Dean can’t blame them. Nobody’d want the boy named after John. “Patrick Robert Winchester.” Dean smiles at that. Bobby, their surrogate uncle who’d practically raised them, would even smile at the honor of having a kid named after him.

“Good.” Dean says, and goes to return to his post, but Cas stands in his way.

“Why are you up here?” He asks, and Dean rolls his eyes. Cas’ eye contact doesn’t waver.

“This is my job. This is what I’m good for.” Dean says. “Nothin’s gonna happen to that kid. To any of us.” Dean explains. Cas tilts his head.

“And you? You don’t deserve to be saved?” Cas asks, eyes crinkling in sadness. Dean clenches his jaw, and doesn’t answer. Cas scoffs an incredulous laugh, and shakes his head.

“What.” Dean says, suddenly angry at Cas. At everything. Cas steps forward, and gets into his face.

“Your brother and sister are down there, so incredibly blessed and happy, and so _disappointed_ because you aren’t there.”

“I was protecting them! Protecting you!”

“You couldn’t ask one of the others? Have a night off?”

“I don’t get a night off, Cas! This is what I’m good for! This is _all_ I’m good for!” He watches Cas’ anger subside to something resembling pity, and steps back. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Not you, Cas.” He says, and Cas grabs his wrist.

“Dean,” he says softly, and Dean lets him pull him into a hug. It’s awkward; Cas is stiff, as if he’s never properly given anyone a hug before, but Dean sinks into his embrace like he’s done it a million times before. He savors the warmth and safety Cas’ arms give him.

“You are worthy, Dean.” Cas says softly, as they pull away. His eyes are bright, and still sad, and instead of arguing, Dean just nods.

“Okay, Cas.” They head back to their little camp, and Garth switches in for night-woods watching while Dean meets his new nephew. Sam and Jess give Cas silent looks of thanks as Dean holds little Patrick in his arms for the first time, cooing and smiling and promising to protect the little bug at all costs.

All in all, it’s a good night.

 

“Soooooo, you want to fuck my brother.” Gabe says, coming up behind him one night, and Dean nearly spills his coffee (that, yes, Cas _did_ bring him) down his front.

“What?” Dean asks, sounding nearly hysterical, and Gabe laughs a loud bark before plopping down beside Dean, cracking open a pepsi and chugging down half its contents.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell him,” he shrugs and makes a contemplative face before continuing. “Unless you want me to.”

“You don’t have a fuckin’ clue what you’re talkin’ about.” Dean says, anger (or embarrassment) brewing in his chest.

“Oh, so I’m _imagining_ the gross looks of adoration you two pass in the free time between slaying zombies? Okay, Dean-oooo.” He says, singsong-y. Dean scowls.

“…What do you mean us two?” Dean says, an inkling of hope in his chest. Gabe chuckles before sipping from his pop can again.

“Oh, dude, you’re blind. Which is hilarious, because I can’t see a fuckin’ thing out here.” He squints and looks around. “Where are all the fuckin’ zombies?”

 

When Sam finally agrees that Jess is ready to start moving again, they take off in their cars. Charlie found a nice baby seat to fit in Sam and Jess’ car for Patrick on one of her supply runs, and Garth, Charlie, and Kevin all smash into Gabriel’s car. Castiel sits in the passenger’s seat of Dean’s car, and they both shift in the uncomfortable silence.

“Did I do something?” Cas asks eventually, and Dean glances over at him for a second before focusing on the road.

“Nope,” he says. And technically, that’s the truth. It was Gabriel who shed the light on Dean’s affections for Cas, and the possibility of Cas returning those affections.

“Where are we headed?” Cas asks, sounding as if he’s choosing his words carefully. Dean bites his lip.

“We were thinking Kansas City.” Dean says, and Cas nods.

“There are more people in the city.” Cas notes, and Dean clenches his jaw.

“Fuck.” He says, and stops his car, efficiently stopping all the cars behind him.

“What’s wrong?”

“We can’t go into the city. If it’s gotten as far as the outskirts of fuckin’ nowhere, it’s most definitely spread throughout the city first. We have to go somewhere where there’s practically no one at all.” Dean says.

“We still have to find somewhere close for supply runs.” Cas says, and Dean nods.

“What would we do without you, Cas?” He asks, rhetorically, and Cas beams at him. Dean leaves the car to tell the others the new plan, leaving Cas behind with a happy little smile on his face.

 

“We wasted all that time coming through here to begin with,” Sam says to seemingly no one, but Dean has to agree. They pull into the stranded streets of Lebanon, Kansas, and drive around aimlessly, not stopping for the one or two undead they see on each street.

“It’s not too bad,” Dean says to his brother, and he hums in agreement. Dean supposes his quiet nature is because of the nervousness of his wife and child in the car behind them; Patrick got a cold and Cas decided to tend to the baby’s sniffling and fever while Jess drove.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Dean says, and Sam turns to him and smiles an appreciative little thing. They’re quiet for a while, driving the destroyed streets on the look for a safe haven, when Sam finally speaks up.

“So… You and Cas.” Sam says, plainly, and Dean doesn’t respond. Sam chuckles. “You like him.” Is all he says, and Dean just stares at the road. “You don’t have to answer. I can tell. He likes you too, you know. In case you didn’t. Which, for you, is totally probable.”

“What’s that?” Dean asks, pointing to what looks like a tornado shelter hidden behind some bushes. Sam leans over his shoulder.

“Let’s check it out.”

 

Dean manages to pick the lock of the shelter, and when they look inside, their jaws drop open. It’s not a tornado shelter… It’s like… a bunker. Like a secret hideout; fully furnished, and humongous. They wave the others over and close themselves in as they explore their new home.

“It’s a batcave.” Dean laughs later, when he’s in the fully-stocked kitchen, gas stove and backup generator working, to all of their wonder. Cas looks around in awe, and turns to Dean with a suddenly serious face.

“Do you think the showers work? With hot water?” He asks, his eyes wide with excitement. Dean feels his ears heat up.

“One way to find out,” he laughs, and he and Cas go to find the showers.

When they find them, they’re not shocked to see it’s like a locker room, stalls and stalls next to each other, every one of them stocked with soap and shampoo. Cas turns the faucet and water dutifully comes out of the shower head, and to their joy, they find that it does get hot.

Dean thinks they might like it here.

Everyone finds their own room; Kevin nearly passes out when he finds stacks of history books under the bed in his room; Gabe finds a shelf full of candies in a closet of his room (he tears up at the sight of it); Sam, Jess, and little Patrick take a large room, and find a crib in a back room for Patrick to sleep comfortably in for the first time. Jess is in tears from the moment they find their bunker, filled with hope that maybe they’ll be able to give Patrick a normal life. Charlie, Kevin, and Dean find some old porn magazines in some musty old boxes, earning an eye roll from Sam and Cas. Charlie and Garth decide to take one of the rooms with bunk beds, and Castiel chooses a room across the hall from Dean.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Cas says with a smile, and Dean can’t ignore the fluttering of his stomach when he closes his door and thinks about Cas sleeping across the hall from him.

So, he might be a little bit in love with Cas. And maybe, now that he doesn’t feel threatened by the zombie apocalypse by every minute, he can do something about it. The thought makes him smile, and he sleeps soundly for the first time in months.

 

“Hello, Dean.” Cas says in the morning, coming into the kitchen with severe bedhead and sheet-lines on his face. Dean smiles at the sight and offers Cas a cup of coffee, which he takes with a sleepy smile. They sit in comfortable silence, exchanging small smiles, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels normal.

“Good morning, lovebirds.” Gabriel says as he strolls into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a thin robe. Dean feels his face get hot, and he looks over at Cas, whose face is hidden by the coffee mug.

“Good morning asshat. Have some coffee.” Dean says, trying to shrug off Gabe’s comment, but he can’t seem to stop looking up at Cas, trying to gauge his reaction. Cas is either a steel trap or totally not interested in Dean, but either way, Dean gets a pit in his stomach that makes everything inside of him hurt. He leaves the table without a single word, and makes his way to the gym to pound the hell out of something.

Sweat is dripping down his neck, down his forehead, burning his eyes, and he closes his eyes and punches a punching bag as hard as he can. He can’t hear anything except the pumping of blood in his ears and the sound of his fists hitting the synthetic leather of the punching bag. He stops to wipe the sweat from his brow, and nearly jumps out of his skin when there’s a tap on his shoulder.

“Jesus, fuck.” He breathes when he turns around and sees Cas staring back at him. “You scared the fuckin’ hell out of me, dude.” He says, and tries to catch his breath. Cas is looking Dean over, watching the sweat drip down into the collar of his shirt, the fabric clinging to his skin. He’s self-conscious about his stomach, so he coughs before Cas can see the pudge above his shorts. Cas’ eyes dart up to meet his, and he looks as if he’s been caught stealing.

“I wanted to… come and apologize. For Gabriel.” He says, and Dean feels that pit in his stomach resurface. “I’m sure he made you very uncomfortable, and I feel terribly.” Dean tilts his head.

“Made me uncomfortable?” Dean repeats, questioning, and Cas nods. “Cas, your brother takes the piss outta me all the time. I’m not uncomfortable with him ribbing me.” He says. Castiel stiffens for a moment, and looks away.

“So, I make you uncomfortable.” He says. It’s not a question, and Dean sighs.

“Cas, we don’t have to have this conversation.” He says, and Cas looks up at him sharply.

“Tell me why I make you uncomfortable,” Cas demands. Dean blinks slowly, trying to find a way to explain that he’s head over heels in love with the guy, when Cas speaks again. “Why did you save me if you didn’t want me around?” He asks, and Dean feels as if he’s been slapped.

“Don’t want you around? Cas, of course I want you around.” Dean says. Cas’ face softens for a moment.

“Then why--?” He starts, but Dean interrupts.

“Because, Cas, I do like you. Like, a lot. And you don’t, and I gotta step back and respect that.” Dean says. Cas smiles, and Dean feels a pang of hurt in his chest.

“You think I don’t like you?” Cas laughs, and he rushes forward and plants his lips firmly on Dean’s. Dean’s hands hold on tight on Cas’ shoulders, and he holds on to their kiss as long as he can. When they pull away, Cas is smiling a big, gummy smile, and Dean’s sure he’s smiling just the same.

“You like me, then.” Dean says, chuckling, and Cas shakes his head.

“We’re idiots.”

“The biggest.”

“Let’s continue kissing.”

“Okay.” They dive into another kiss, teeth and tongue and stubble scraping, and Dean’s never felt happier or more alive in his life. They’ve made it through the zombie apocalypse thus far, and maybe this new life in the bunker, with Cas by Dean’s side, they’ll make it to the end, and all live full, happy lives.

But right now, everything is good. And feeling Cas smile under his lips is all that Dean could ever ask for.


End file.
